


The Beating of our Two Hearts

by RiverWoman



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friendship/Love, Humour, Last Chapters AU, M/M, Male Slash, Romance, Some Explicit Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-18
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-16 04:52:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 65,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1332628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiverWoman/pseuds/RiverWoman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A friendship that blossomed into love. A love that will succour and sustain them during the darkest times of the Third Age. A love that will ultimately bind them together at the dawn of a New Age ... and beyond. Elrond and Mithrandir; Elf Lord and Istar. Two hearts that beat as one.</p>
<p>                                                        *************************</p>
<p>Disclaimer: The characters belong solely to the Tolkien Estate, I merely play with them and I always put them back afterwards; maybe a little bit dishevelled, but no real harm done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Genesis Part 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story mostly follows canon timeline. I have taken images and sometimes, dialogue from the films when it serves dramatic purpose. The final chapters are AU. The Southern Elves are my own creation.
> 
> *********************
> 
> Translations are at the end of each chapter.
> 
> Originally Beta-ed by Beckymonster - so this is for her coz she loves them too. All remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> ********************

_ Prologue _

_The Void is dark and limitless, but not empty._

_For countless millennia it has been filled with the presence of the Dark One. He has wandered through infinite space, ever searching, ever watching. He will sing as he wanders. The songs are melancholy, sad and always discordant. Rarely are they songs of joy. The Dark One has known no joy since … since those days long ago when he had wandered the World in freedom._

_He detects the presence long before he sees any form; so attuned is he to the shifting emptiness, that any speck of light or any change in the fabric of the Void, is immediately discernible by him._

_The form takes shape and solidifies._

_‘Another of thy guilty visits, brother?’ His voice is pure, clear and as soft as a caress. ‘Why dost thou torment me thus?’_

_‘Thou art my brother and I do not wish for thee to be always alone,’ comes the reply._

_‘This … is thy guilt, dearest brother, not mine. Still, thou art here, so tell me, what news dost thou bring? Come my sweet brother, if thou desirest to lessen my solitude, stay a while and speak with me. What is happening in the World?’_

_‘Thy Lieutenant, Sauron, seeks to dominate the Earth.’_

_‘Ever greedy is that one.’_

_‘He will not succeed.’_

_‘Ah! There is plan to thwart him. No doubt a plan devised by thee, brother mine, always a bad sign,’ and the Void rang with crystal laugh of the Dark One. ‘Come then, tell me. Lighten my darkness.’_

**********

 Genesis 

Part 1

“Stay is a charming word in a friend's vocabulary.”

**********

Year 1050 TA

Like most great things, it started inauspiciously, on a wet day, late in the year.

Gandalf had spent the last fifty years roaming the lands of Middle Earth getting his bearings. He would report back to Saruman, the Head of his Order every so often, but mostly he was travelling the roadways, pathways, hills, mountains, rivers, streams, seas and open lands of this world. He decided he liked it very much.

His travels had brought him into contact with the various peoples of Middle Earth, from the Eldar race to Men by way of the Dwarves. He liked the Elves best, and then Dwarves, Men came at the bottom of his list. It was not that he disliked the race of Men; it was because he didn’t really understand their customs and society yet. He was making stupid mistakes and that annoyed him.

But on this wet autumn day, he found himself walking over the bridge that connected the hills to The Last Homely House West of the Mountains. This was his first visit to Elrond Peredhel and the refuge he had created. He had already spent time with Thranduil of the Great Greenwood and found he liked the Silvan elf a great deal. He was a plain talking elf who said what he meant and didn’t dress it up in fancy words or cryptic philosophy. The caverns of the King were merry with dance, song and contests. He had a brood of unruly children whom he loved dearly. His wife had sailed into the Undying Lands some time before, so he was both father and mother to them and his children love him.

Lothlórien was altogether different. Prince ruler Amdir was more ethereal and less down to earth. Speaking with him and with his closest advisors, Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn was like swimming through some thick liquid; you worked very hard, but never really got anywhere. Lothlórien was beautiful, but after several weeks, he found it all too difficult. Just once he would have like a conversation where questions were asked and answered, not a conversation that was all questions, conjecture and vague references to things that will be or are yet to be. It gave him a pain in his head.

His dealings with the Elves of the Southlands were different yet again. These Elves had been separated from their Northern relations for so long, they speak neither Sindarin nor Quenya, but a version of both with a fair amount of Common thrown in for good measure. They are olive skinned, dark haired with almond shaped eyes the colour of obsidian; they are the most exotic peoples Gandalf had yet met. These Southern Elves have no interest in the affairs of their Northern cousins; they simply want to be left alone to get on with their lives. They wear soft flowing robes of the most exquisite weave and brilliant colours. They bead their hair and wear flamboyant feathers woven into their braids. They have a love of music and the spoken word, their poetry being especially creative. Gandalf had enjoyed his sojourn in the Southlands immensely and had made a mental note to return as often as he could.

But today, he was tired and wet as he crossed the bridge. He was half way up the steps that led into the House when a tall, dark haired elf approached him.

‘Mae govannen, can I be of help?’

Gandalf leaned on his staff. ‘I would like to get out the rain first of all, and then I would like to meet with Lord Elrond Peredhel of Imladris.’

The elf motioned him forward and into the House. ‘Lord Elrond is not available today. Perhaps if you were to return tomorrow …?’

Ah, so this is how it was going to be with Imladris, being told to go away very graciously, although the race of Men had a much courser phrase for it.

‘Hmm. I think not. I have travelled here at the wish of Saruman, the Head of my Order, the _Herren Istari_. He wishes me to meet with Lord Elrond and I think I will do just that.’

‘Ah,’ the tall elf simply nodded his head and frowned, but did not move.

Gandalf was at a loss. In the Great Greenwood he had been taken to Thranduil immediately. In Lothlórien, he had been taken high up into the Great Mallorn of Caras Galadhon, where he was given refreshments while he waited. The Elves of the Southlands had invited him to stay for as long he liked, had plied him with food and wine and had given him access to their leaders whenever he wanted. What is polite in Imladris he wondered? Should he remain and not move? Should he demand to be taken to someone in charge if Lord Elrond was not available? He sighed and smiled kindly at the elf.

‘Erestor, who is our guest?’ A bright female voice called out.

‘Erm …’ the elf turned to him. ‘What is your name?’

‘Gandalf or Mithrandír, it makes no difference to me.’

‘His name is Mithrandír, Lady Celebrían.’

‘And why are you keeping Mithrandír waiting in the hallway, dripping wet? Shouldn’t we be offering him dry clothing and wine?’

The Lady Celebrían approached. She was tall, with long golden hair and she reminded him of someone.

‘Welcome to Imladris, Mithrandír, please, if you follow me, we will sort out some dry clothes for you. Then I expect you will want to see my husband, yes?’

‘Yes, indeed my Lady, you are very gracious.’ He looked pointedly at the other elf and wiggled his fingers at him, as if to cast a spell or charm. Erestor took a step back, just in case.

And so began his relationship with Imladris, its Lord and his family. Not the best of starts, but not the worst either.

That had been in Minas Tirith and the very thought of it still made him shiver. The dungeons in that city were deep, dark and altogether dank. How was he to know that calling the King, Hyarmendacil 1, a royal bastard would be taken as a grave offence and consign him to the dungeons for several terrible days? Had he not heard the grooms, guards, merchants and servants call him such? How could he have known that it was a name that was never used in the presence of the Royal Personage? Of course, not having the faintest idea what a bastard was and the insult it could cause did not help him at all. He was learning though, and quickly, especially of those words in Common that were vulgar and coarse. The Dwarves also had a fine collection of more salubrious words in a rich and deep bag of oaths. In fact, in any contest between Dwarf and Man he doubted there would be an outright winner. The Elves had much subtler ways of causing insult, as he had just experienced. He would have to consider long and hard on which was better, the Elves with their ‘not available try again tomorrow’ approach or Men and their ‘piss off and don’t bother coming back’ one.

However, he followed the Lady of the house down a long corridor; she stopped before a beautifully carved door.

‘You are welcome to this House Mithrandír, I hope this room pleases you, I am sure you will find everything you need. When you are ready, come and find me and I will introduce you to my husband.’

He inclined his head in thanks, but couldn’t shake the feeling that he had seen her somewhere before. Once inside the room he could only stare in stunned astonishment. It was the most sublime room he had ever been in. It was large, with carving and paintings, with living plants and trees all integrated into the structure of the chamber. It was cheerful, despite the lateness of the year and the pouring rain. One side of the room had doors that opened onto a large garden that seemed to be private to this room. He threw his hat on the over-large bed and leaned his staff against the bedpost. Through another door he found a bathing room and tucked away at one end, an inside privy. Such luxury – his opinion of Imladris and its Elves was changing. Back in the bedroom he found a wardrobe filled with spare clothing, all of Elvish design of course, but beautiful. He clapped his hands and spun around in sheer joy.

But, he was wet, his boots were leaving wet footprints on the pristine floor and his grey robes were drying, but were also beginning to smell like wet dog. He undressed as quickly as he could, throwing his wet garments to the floor along with his sodden boots; then naked, he padded into the bathing room. He turned a tap and laughed out loud as already hot water poured into the ornate tub. It also poured straight out again through a hole at the opposite end. He found a large plug resting on the side of the tub, he placed it in the hole and immediately, it began to fill. He peered at a line of jars on a shelf containing a coarse salt that was fragranced; he poured half a jar into the steaming water. He dipped a toe in and pulled it away immediately, it was far too hot. He turned a companion tap and cold water joined the hot. He kept a close eye on the water level, not wanting it to spill over the rim. He stopped the cold water and tried again, it was perfect. He climbed in and lowered himself blissfully into the fragrant water. He sighed deeply, laid his head back and closed his eyes. Yes indeed, Imladris was quickly recovering itself from its former slight. When his skin was wrinkled from the hot water, he dunked his head and washed his hair, then his beard. Finally, when he had washed and scrubbed his body clean of the accumulated dirt and grime of the road, he stood up, pulled the plug out and wrapped himself in a large, soft towel as the dirty water gurgled away.

Back in the bedroom there was no sign of his clothes or boots. He grunted to himself, it looked like his hosts wanted him to dress in something other than coarsely woven grey robes and wet, smelly boots. Not that he minded in the least; he found suitable attire in the wardrobe, a pair of soft linen trousers, a long, white over shirt and long, heavy sleeveless flowing robe of deep blue. He found brushes and combs and set about grooming his hair and beard. He hated the beard immensely and would have liked to get rid of it; but he was a wizard and wizards are old, wise and have long beards, or so he had been told. Still, when he looked in the mirror, he looked much better than he had in the last several months of hard travelling. His search for spare boots proved fruitless, there were only soft slipper like things; impractical for anything other than a bedroom. He sighed, found the largest pair and slipped them on; they would have to suffice.

He stepped out of the room and not knowing which way to go, he turned right, which was the way the Lady of the House had been heading. He looked with interest at the corridor he was walking down and into the rooms that had open doors. Everything was beautiful; it reminded him of somewhere … somewhere at the very edge of his knowledge, yet annoyingly out of reach. The corridor opened out into a large round room; books and parchments filled bookcases or were strewn on tables. He stopped to look at a pile of parchments scattered on a long table. They were reports from farms, giving yields and tithes. He grunted, hardly the stuff a supposedly great scholar such as Elrond Peredhel would read; then a thought struck him, what if Elrond was slow witted or lazy or worse, a clerk or scrivener, dull and uninteresting? What if he was not the warrior, scholar and healer he had heard so much about? That would change …

‘Have you found what you are looking for?’ a soft voice enquired.

He turned and faced a tall, handsome elf. His hair was jet black and fell down his back to his waist. He wore warrior braids and a circlet of gold. His attire was rich, yet looked comfortable and practical; trousers tucked into soft boots, a long tunic of white and silver and a thick, over gown the colour of deep red wine. This then, was the first time Mithrandír set eyes upon Elrond Peredhel, Lord of Imladris.

‘I do not mean to give offence, I am merely… curious,’ he said, ‘I am Mithrandír. Do I have the honour of addressing Elrond, Lord of Imladris?’

‘I am Elrond,’ came the reply, ‘my wife, the Lady Celebrían, has informed me of your arrival. I trust you found your room suitable?’

‘Yes, very suitable, my thanks,’ and he inclined his head slightly.

‘Then come and join my wife and myself in tea, I expect you are hungry and thirsty after your travels,’ Elrond swept his hand to indicate the direction to be taken. Mithrandír fell into step beside his host.

‘Yes, travelling the land is hungry work,’ he said, ‘and I thank you and your wife for your hospitality.’

Elrond inclined his head in recognition of the thanks. He led them to the other end of the House and into a chamber where the Lady Celebrían was waiting for them. It was a large, comfortable sitting room with views overlooking the long valley below.

‘Come, Mithrandír,’ she said, ‘you shall sit here by me, then you can tell me of your travels.’ Mithrandír did as he was bid. Elrond took a chair opposite so that he was facing both his wife and guest.

Mithrandír couldn’t help but stare at Lady Celebrían as she poured tea for them all. ‘Forgive me my Lady,’ he said, ‘but you … remind me of someone …’

‘Ah! You have been to Lothlorién, have you not?’ she replied. He nodded. ‘Then you would have met my parents, the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn?’

Now he saw it; mother and daughter shared the same long golden hair and delicate features. ‘That would explain it, my Lady,’ he said as he sipped his tea, a rather nice, spicy apple flavour.

The three sat drinking tea, eating dainty, sweet pastries and discussed things; nothing important, this was a ‘getting to know you’ meeting. He wanted to know what kind of Elves he was dealing with in Imladris and for them to see and know him. After all, he would be visiting Imladris as often as the Head of his Order required.

‘Would you care to walk with me?’ Lord Elrond said as he stood.

Mithrandír didn’t want to walk, but it was clear that the tea party was over. So he stood, bowed to the Lady Celebrían and followed Lord Elrond from the room. The elf strode purposefully back the way they had come and led him to the first room he had come across earlier, which was obviously the library. He followed Elrond up stairs and along another corridor to the other end of the House; Elrond opened a door and ushered him into large room, which also appeared to be a library. There was a large table with writing implements neatly arranged along the top edge, along with inks. Parchments were stacked awaiting reading and books covered nearly every available space. There were chairs, some functional and some comfortable; a large fireplace which was lit and he was grateful for the heat it gave off. Several paintings adorned the walls; two portraits, one of the last High King, Gil-galad and a delightful one of the Lady Celebrían with three young children. The other paintings were of places or scenes that Mithrandír thought he recognised. In one corner was a long pole with a torn and battered banner attached. The edges of the banner were scorched as if from a great heat. There was a closed door at the far end of the room.

He felt himself observed; he turned to see Elrond staring intently at him.

‘These are your children?’ he said, nodding to the portrait and as he looked, he could see quite clearly that the Lady Celebrían had her knee firmly in the back of the young she-elfling and her hand rested on her daughter’s shoulder, no doubt keeping her still. He smiled at that.

‘Yes. The twins are Elladan and Elrohir and my daughter, Arwen,’ said Elrond who moved to sit at the table. ‘Tell me, Mithrandír, what brings you Imladris?’

The wizard turned to him, confused. This was the first time he had been asked directly what he was doing. Usually, the hosts, Elves especially, did not come to the point quite so quickly. Perhaps it was something to do with Lord Elrond being Peredhel? Lord Elrond pierced him with his grey, intelligent eyes. ‘I am here at the bidding of the Head of my Order, Saruman the White. He tasked me with gathering as much information about the Races of Middle Earth as I can. The _Istari Hervenn_ are newly arrived in the world and as such, we know nothing of the peoples and races that inhabit this land,’ he gave a weak smile but knew instantly that his explanation was not going to satisfy _this_ Elf Lord.

‘Hmm. And where are you newly arrived from?’

There was no anger or insult in the question, Lord Elrond wanted facts. Unfortunately, for this wizard, facts were in short supply. He stood with his hands clasped behind his back, tapping one hand on the other while he thought of a suitable answer. Lord Elrond did not prompt him in any way, he simply waited, patiently. Mithrandír closed his eyes; he opened them and looked around the room; he looked out of the window to the hills beyond. ‘Mithlond,’ he said at last.

‘Ah,’ was all the reply he got.

It really was confounded hot in this room, the Lord’s eyes did not leave him alone for one second; as if they were examining every little bit of his body. It unsettled him.

‘And do you find the lands and people agreeable?’ Elrond continued.

‘The land is diverse and quite beautiful in places; of the people that I have encountered, I would say I like most, for different reasons.’

‘And of the ones you dislike?’ Elrond rose from his desk and moved towards a side table, he poured them both large goblets of wine. Mithrandír accepted the drink.

‘It is not so much dislike, more … not understanding,’ Elrond tilted his head as if not understanding. ‘It’s the customs and the society of Men that I find … confusing. Whilst a word spoken in one context with garner a laugh, the same word spoken in another context will end up with the speaker on his behind, sitting in the mud,’ he sighed and sipped the exceedingly good wine.

‘What would you like to know?’

He looked at Elrond over the rim of his goblet, ‘how not to make a fool of myself in the company of the Race of Men for a start.’

‘Then allow me to school you in the many and varied customs of Men.’

Mithrandír looked at the Elf Lord and there seemed to be neither edge nor teasing in those words. He lifted his goblet and saluted Elrond. ‘I thank you, Lord Elrond, but I have no wish to distract you from your other duties.’

‘And you won’t, come,’ with that, Elrond led him back to the great library of Imladris. ‘Here you are welcome to delve into any and all of my collection of books. You will find Histories, tales of myth and legend, books on etiquette and customs for the known Races … all at your disposal. And I will be more than willing to answer your questions.’

Mithrandír looked at the vast collection of tomes and parchments and a smile crossed his face. ‘I really don’t know how to thank you my Lord; I have spent time in the library at Minas Tirith, but it was all records of how many bushels of barley or oats where harvested; how many firkins of butter were produced in the year dot, that sort of thing. Few and far between were records of the customs of ordinary folk or tales of Kings in that place. So …’ he gave a small bow, ‘thank you, Lord Elrond.’

This time it was Elrond who saluted him. ‘Ah, Erestor,’ he called to the dark haired elf who was passing, ‘come here and meet Mithrandír. Please inform my household, he is to be made welcome whenever he pays us a visit; and keep a room for his use.’

‘We have already met, Elrond,’ Erestor replied, with a faint smile at Mithrandír, ‘and it shall be as you request.’

‘He is my seneschal, he runs this place you know,’ Elrond had lowered his voice and nodded to the retreating figure of Erestor, ‘I am the Lord of Imladris, but Erestor is the master.’

‘Quite so,’ the wizard replied, not really understanding the information that has been divulged to him. ‘Is that the Standard of The High King?’ He nodded towards the ruined flag in the corner.

‘Yes, Gil-galad may have fallen that day, but his Standard did not fall to the ground with him. I was his Herald … and fought by his side.’

The mood had suddenly grown sombre and he saw the eyes of the Lord of Imladris held a great sadness; it was only the sound of running that broke the mood. Down the corridor came three elves; two male voices admonishing a female and she was throwing taunts back as them as she came hurtling into the library. The she-elf dashed behind Elrond and used him as a barrier against the other two. The twins, for indeed Mithrandír recognised them from the portrait upstairs, tried in vain to reach their sister, but Elrond gallantly moved around so that they did not. Mithrandír thought all three were adult, yet they still acted in a way that was consistent with siblings of any race. They were boisterous, loud and laughed easily with each other.

‘You cannot stay hidden behind ada all day,’ one chuckled while making a grab for his sister.

‘Oh no? Just wait and see, troll face,’ the sweet maiden replied.

‘Ada! Tell Arwen she can’t call me that,’ the twin said.

‘Arwen, you must not call your brothers names, especially ones that don’t fit.’

‘Yes, ada, but what shall I call them then?’

‘Certainly not troll face,’ Elrond said. His sons had stopped trying to catch their sister and were now grinning as it became clear that their father was siding with them. ‘Perhaps you should use their names … Elladan and Elrohir. And if that fails, I suggest … dung for brains or even … orc arse … yes, that would be better suited to them.’

‘ADAR!’ the twins protested, but Elrond was laughing as he brought his daughter around him and kissed her brow. ‘Now, enough of this rowdiness, our guest will think you are still elflings instead of adults,’ he admonished them, ‘please meet Mithrandír, he is of the _Herren Istari_ , Saruman is the Head of his order. He will be a frequent guest in our home; at least, I hope he will.’

The three turned to him, the twins bowed low and their sister curtsied.

‘I am pleased to meet you all,’ said Mithrandír.

‘Tell me about being a wizard and of your travels,’ Arwen caught hold of his hand and pulled him to a low couch, she patted the seat next to her.

‘Arwen, perhaps …’ Elrond started.

‘No, no. I would be delighted to speak with Mistress Arwen, although, of the Istari there is precious little to tell, but of my travels ….’

‘Yes,’ one of the twins said as his brother dragged two chairs across to join the little group, ‘and then we shall show Mithrandír the _Shards of Narsil_ and tell him the tale of how it came to be shattered.’

And so on his first visit to Imladris, Mithrandír found himself sitting amongst Elrond’s children as he told them what he knew of the Istari and of his travels around Middle Earth. He was enjoying himself in the company of the young elves and they were attentive to his tales and asked sensible questions.

However, he was more than a little surprised when Elrond, instead of leaving, having heard the same stories earlier, made himself comfortable in a large chair, leaned back and listened again.

 

**********

_ TRANSLATIONS _

_Ada = Dad/Daddy_

_Adar = Father_

_Herren Istari = Order of Wizards_

_Mae govannen = Well Met – (a usual form of greeting)_

_Peredhel(S) = Half-Elven_

_(As always, my grateful thanks to DragonFlame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project; the Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company.)_


	2. Genesis (Part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Words are easy, like the wind; but faithful friends are hard to find.” 
> 
> ********************************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations are at the end of the chapter.
> 
> For Beckymonster ... and the wonderful Nefertiti, wherever you are. Also for sr, for sticking with it.
> 
> *****************************************************************

Genesis 

Part 2

“Words are easy, like the wind; but faithful friends are hard to find.”

 

**********

 

For the next two hundred years, Mithrandír, Gandalf the Grey, Tharkûn or even Incánus, depending on who he was with, continued his wanderings around Middle Earth. He was watching, listening, but most of all, he was learning. It was thanks to the instruction given by Lord Elrond that his confidence over the last centuries had grown. He was making less social mistakes now and that pleased him. Lord Elrond had become his friend and mentor over the years; guiding him, teaching him and instructing him in all the ways of Men, Dwarves and Elves. Although, of the Elves, Elrond had confessed that Mithrandír’s knowledge of all things Eldar surpassed even his own. And how was it that a wandering wizard could read and speak Quenya without lessons of any kind? Elrond would eye him sometimes, curious no doubt as to where and how this arcane knowledge had been acquired. Should Elrond have ever asked that particular question, Mithrandír would have had to shrug; truth was, he didn’t really know. It was just there in his mind.

As his friendship with Lord Elrond and his family had grown over the centuries, more often than not, he found his feet had ever increasingly taken him to Imladris or Rivendell as it was sometimes called. He was always warmly welcomed by the family and the other Elves of the household. At first, he had kept up the pretence of carrying a message or seeking advice. Of late, he simply turned up and enjoyed the hospitality of Elrond’s house.

There was however, one aspect of life that completely befuddled him and it was the one thing he had not sought advice on. Love; a powerful emotion, as strong as hate… but nicer. It was the one area he still found himself making stupid, embarrassing mistakes. For example, he had yet to master the art of flirting; he simply did not comprehend where flirting started and something else started. Not that many young women, or men for that matter, flirted with him. The serving women in the taverns and hostelries did flirt outrageously, but how was he to know it was meant to be harmless banter? Sadly, he found out the hard way when a serving woman had flirted with him and he had obviously overstepped some unseen and unknown mark or other; old man or not, he found himself sitting on his rump outside the tavern, in the mud and rain. So it was no surprise that he didn’t fully understand the affect Lord Elrond had on him when they were around each other.

And he did have feelings for Lord Elrond.

At first, it was friendship and gratitude. Then it became something else. He didn’t understand the feeling at all, but when he was around the Elf Lord, his mind and body reacted in the most peculiar of ways. Elrond was fond of him of that there was no doubt. But he showed no demonstrable affection other than what was socially acceptable; which Mithrandír also thought odd, as of the Races he had so far encountered, Elves were the most relaxed when it came to issues of… well, that kind of thing.

What was it that he was feeling when he was around Elrond? It was warm and flowing; it gave him flutterings in his belly; it made him want… more. Then came the day when something changed and the feelings he had for Lord Elrond reached another and altogether more mysterious level.

It was not a lover’s touch, merely an affectionate squeeze of his knee.

It was during a discussion on the finer points of Gondorian poetry. They were sitting by the open windows of Elrond’s study, a goblet of something fresh and light in their hands. Examples of said poetry had been found and read out to each other. Elrond was insisting that it was good poetry with many redeeming features. Mithrandír had said there were no redeeming features whatsoever and no finer points at all; it was all courtly love piffle or the joys of having a sword thrust mightily into the soft parts of your body, which didn’t seem like a good idea at all. Elrond had thrown his head back and laughed; a laugh that Mithrandír felt flooding through his body, as warm and as beautiful as a soft summer night. Elrond had then reached over and squeezed the wizard’s knee. That touch awoke something in Mithrandír that since that day, had neither dissipated nor diminished. If anything, it had grown stronger.

More centuries passed. He found a new Race was emerging to the west of Imladris. They were a small people who called themselves _Kuduk_ in their own tongue, to the Elves they were _Perian_ , but they were becoming more used to the name _Hobbit_ and they had recently founded a land of their own which they called _The Shire_. They dwelt in comfortable holes dug into the hillside and they were cultivators and farmers. Mithrandír knew he was going to like these Shirefolk very much.

But with a new Race found, older and wickeder things were also emerging from beneath the high mountains and up from deep, foul pits. Orcs and goblins had been quietly breeding deep within the caverns of the Misty Mountains since the fall of Sauron and now, packs of the foul spawn of the Dark Lord were becoming increasingly bold and leaving their dank holes at night. Elrond and his warriors would ride out from to time to harry and kill those packs who dared to come too close to the borders of Imladris. They would be killed or driven back whence they came and peace would settle over the land again.

It was a day in high summer when Mithrandír walked across the bridge and into the Last Homely House; this time he was bearing a genuine message from Saruman.

It was the day when everything changed forever.

As always, Elrond was pleased to see him and once the message had been delivered and a suitable reply composed, they had walked out into the garden catching each other up on the events since the last time they had been together. Elrond told him that Lady Celebrían and Arwen were currently in Lothlorien, visiting with Arwen’s grandparents. They would be gone for weeks, possibly months. Celebrían loved the Golden Wood and so would stay as long as she could. Mithrandir had nodded at this and couldn’t help but wonder why the length of mother and daughter’s stay in Lothlorien was important.

Later, he prepared himself for the evening meal. Food was always available at any time in The Last Homely House, but there were two set mealtimes over a day; the nooning meal and the evening meal. You could attend or not, as you desired. Lord Elrond would always attend the two formal meals, sometimes joined by his family, sometimes not. These formal meals were a focus for any visitors and the household to join together to enjoy the victuals provided and exchange news and information.

His room was not the original one he had used when he first came to Imladris. This room was closer to the entrance portico of Elrond’s house, making it easier for him to arrive late at night or leave early without disturbing the household. It was still a lovely chamber with a separate bathing room and large doors that led out to the gardens. As usual, as he soaked in the bath, his clothes and boots were spirited away to be cleaned and mended. This evening, he took scissors to his beard and trimmed it; not short, but enough so as not to be straggly. He also trimmed his hair, taking off some of the length, not an altogether successful venture, but it made him feel better. Now he stood in front of a long mirror of beaten metal and glass and looked at himself. The soft silks and linen of his elven garb felt good against his skin. The long robe was the colour of pale wine and the outer robe a sky blue with silver flecks running through the cloth. The fine linen trews were soft and as he turned this way and that, he approved of himself. He was tall, although not quite as tall as Lord Elrond, and much shorter than Lord Glorfindel, but then, Lord Glorfindel was the tallest elf in Imladris.

His face was careworn, but when he smiled, he noticed his eyes sparkled. His beard and hair, now washed and trimmed, was whiter than usual. His hands were large with long slender fingers and with the nails scrubbed and trimmed, looked strong and capable. His feet, also scrubbed clean were strong, healthy feet, capable of walking many leagues. Indeed, he thought as he looked at himself, he scrubbed up well and if it wasn’t for the damnable beard, he could pass for an elf, although, possibly not a Noldo and of course, without the ears. He decided not to wear boots as he intended to take a walk around the garden and in the summer, this was best experienced barefoot.

He left his room just as the chimes sounded for the evening meal. He was greeted by many and stopped by some so as to exchange pleasantries. Elrond was already seated when he arrived in the large eating hall. He bowed to his host as was custom and took a chair half way along the great table. Food was served and enjoyed; wine was also served and enjoyed more. The conversation between him and his dining companions was far reaching and lively. Towards the end of the meal, strains of music could be heard coming from the Halls of Fire, as after the evening meal, there would be singing and tales for the rest of the night. When he had eaten his fill, he wished his companions a pleasant evening and turned to bow in thanks to his host. Elrond’s chair was empty.

Certain that his friend had been called away for some urgent errand; he picked up an apple from the table and made his way outside. Absently, he took a bite from the apple as he decided which path took take. Imladris was large and pathways led off in all directions, some to the village that had grown up around the house; some to gardens; some to orchards and some, down to the Bruinen. He was undecided, so using the simple children’s rhyme, eena, meena, minney, moo, he choose a path behind the house that he thought led up towards one of the waterfalls. Munching happily on his apple, he strolled along the path enjoying the balmy summer evening and the beauty of Imladris. He admired Elves for their creativity when it came to all things living. Imladris was organic, it flowed as nature flowed; even dead trees were given new life and colour by growing a flowering vine around it. They used carvings to great effect, so that a statue or creature would peep out from a cascade of greenery. Not all of the flower beds and garden were formal; wild flowers grew in abundance and weeds were allowed to thrive in certain areas.

Following the path brought him to an archway he had not seen before. Beyond the archway was a small courtyard with a lawn of deep green, beds of flowers, fruit trees and pots of herbs. The aroma of the herbs was heady when mixed with the fragrance of the flowers. He stepped onto the lawn; it was soft and springy under his bare feet. Smiling, he walked across the lawn then back again, allowing his feet to sink into the lush greenery. He caught an aroma of something new, something delicate, yet it permeated his mind. Try as he might he couldn’t identify the aroma. He walked across the lawn again; there it was, riding up to his nostrils. He looked down and laughed as he realised that the lawn was the source of the aroma. He sat down and picked a few blades of the grass and rubbed them between his fingers and inhaled. How was this possible? This grass smelt like nothing he had found in Ithilien or The Shire; there it was just grass, green and earthy.

‘How is this possible?’ he asked out loud.

‘Camomile,’ a familiar voice answered.

‘Eh… what?’ Mithrandír looked around. Lord Elrond stepped from behind a large apple tree.

‘It’s a camomile lawn. It’s very difficult to maintain, which is why we only have this small area.’

Mithrandír scrambled to his feet. ‘It is lovely, Elrond. I had no idea you could use camomile for something like this, it’s glorious.’ He noticed that Elrond was also barefoot upon the lawn. He took a last bite of his apple and held it, unsure if he should throw it away or hold it.

‘You can throw it onto the flower beds if you like. I am sure the birds would welcome it,’ said Elrond. The wizard tossed the core onto a flower bed. ‘Would you care to walk with me for a while?’

‘Ah… yes… delighted to,’ he replied.

Elrond gestured with his hand the direction they should take and Mithrandír walked towards the archway again. As he passed Elrond, the elf placed his hand in the small of his back, as if guiding him towards the arch. Mithrandír gasped softly as a jolt of heat shot through his body. He walked through the arch ahead of Elrond, turned left to the steps that led upwards. The steps were shallow and broad enough to allow the two friends to walk side by side. The waterfalls that surrounded Imladris roared around them as they ascended. The wizard watch with interest as Elrond moved his hands as if weaving a spell; indeed, the roar decreased to a level so that voices would not have to be raised to be heard. He realised that Elrond had bewitched the water.

‘So Lady Celebrían could be away for some time?’ he asked Elrond.

‘Yes, it has been many years since she saw her parents and Arwen adores being in the Golden Wood.’

Mithrandír smiled. ‘Lady Arwen is now of an age when she is beginning to notice …’

Elrond raised an eyebrow. ‘Hmm… that is precisely why being with her grandparents will do her good.’

‘I haven’t seen the twins today.’

‘They now ride out on patrol seeking orcs and other filth to send into the Nether World. They are sometimes gone for days at a time. They see it as an enjoyable way of gaining fighting experience,’ Elrond grinned. ‘And while they are out on patrol with my warriors, they are not getting into trouble at home.’

Mithrandír chuckled. The twins had something of a reputation in Imladris as carousers and lovers; it was not unknown for them to fight each other over the bestowing of their favours on male or female. For the twins were inclusive, gender did not concern them when they were in love; which was frequently.

The path was leading them deeper into the wooded heights above Imladris. The view was wonderful now; the steps had given way to a broad pathway bordered by wild flowers. Although it appeared random, Mithrandír had the feeling that his friend was subtly guiding them to a pre-arranged destination. They rounded a corner and there was a pavilion, so placed to give the best view of the valley beyond The Last Homely House. And when Elrond led him inside, he knew he was right.

‘Come, let us have some wine and conversation, my friend,’ Elrond said.

Mithrandír frowned, suddenly nervous. He was completely alone with Elrond for the first time since he had been visiting Imladris. Usually there were others around; the Lady Celebrían would more often than not be with them, as would the Elrond’s children or some other member of the household, Lord Glorfindel usually, especially when tactics or reports on orc packs were needed. Even when they spent time in each other’s company, there was always an interruption from someone. This then, was the first time they were completely alone, together.

The pavilion was furnished with large cushions, a low table had wine, fruit and sweetmeats set upon it. Thin gauze like curtains were draped around the pavilion, giving some amount of privacy.

He was alone with Lord Elrond; Elrond.

And he was suddenly terrified. He swallowed nervously.

He settled into the large cushions as Elrond poured wine for them both. He handed a goblet to him and Mithrandír’s hand trembled slightly as he took it.

‘To friendship,’ Elrond toasted him and Mithrandír returned the salute then took a long pull of the rich, heady wine.

‘So my friend, you have magic?’ he opened the conversation.

Elrond, who had made himself comfortable opposite, smiled. ‘It is very basic, but I have command over the Bruinen.’

‘It is effective,’ Mithrandír smiled back. For some reason, he was warm. He took another mouthful of the wine and immediately regretted it. His mind was already slowing down and he knew he was grinning like an idiot, but somehow, he couldn’t control it.

‘Don’t drink the wine too fast,’ Elrond cautioned, ‘it is strong; strong enough to addle the brains of Man, let alone a wizard.’

‘I will heed your warning,’ the wizard smiled back and placed his goblet on the table so as not to be tempted. He then leaned back into the cushions, stretched his lean body out, feeling utterly relaxed. The two friends sat in comfortable silence while outside the pavilion, birds sang their last songs to the day.

It was Elrond who broke the silence.

‘Where do your travels take you next?’

‘Back to Orthanc firstly, with your reply to Saruman; then down to Rohan, after that …’ he shrugged, ‘I haven’t thought that far ahead. To tell you the truth Elrond, I could stay here in Imladris for the next few years, in somnolent peace.’ He put his hands behind his head and closed his eyes. Indeed, he thought, staying here with Elrond as company was a tempting idea. He could then _really_ get to know the most attractive and intelligent of Elves.

‘Do you think so?’ Elrond’s voice broke through his reverie.

‘Eh?’ He sat bolt upright. ‘I’m sorry, but I didn’t say anything,’ suddenly embarrassed, he reached for his wine, but thought better of it. Perhaps it was the wine …

‘It is not the wine either,’ a small smile was curling on the edge of the elf’s lips.

Now Mithrandír was confused. He stared at Elrond as if his friend was playing a trick of some kind on him.

‘It is no trick … _my_ friend; it is something else entirely.’ The Elf Lord moved across the cushions and sat closer to the wizard.

Mithrandír swallowed nervously.

‘My dearest Mithrandír, why should I make you uncomfortable?’

He looked directly at the elf. As a lone song bird trilled its farewell to the day and the aroma of flowers that only released their fragrance as the sun set drifted upon the air, Mithrandír fell into the deep pools of wisdom that were contained in Elrond’s grey eyes. The elf reached out and took both of the wizard’s hand in his own.

‘Who are you, really?’

Mithrandír was caught off guard; he was flustered and when he was flustered, he was wont to grow angry. ‘Confound it all! I have no idea of what you are speaking,’ he tried to removed his hands, but Elrond held them fast.

‘All I am asking is who you really are … and why are you suddenly wearing Cirdan’s ring?’

 

**********

 

__

__

_ TRANSLATIONS _

_Ada = daddy_

_Adar = Father_

_Herren Istari = Order of Wizards_

_Mae govannen = Well Met – (a usual form of greeting)_

_Peredhel = Half-Elven_

 

_(As always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project; The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company)_

 

 

 

 


	3. Genesis (Part 3)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.” 
> 
> ************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to those leaving Kudos! - it is much appreciated.
> 
> Any speech in Italics and between double 'less than' and 'more than' marks means speaking mind to mind - (mind-speak). Apologies for not showing this, but the AO3 programme reads these marks as instructions so they don't print in the 'notes' box. But you'll get the idea ;oP
> 
> ************************************************
> 
> Beta-ed by Beckymonster; *high five* honey - all remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> ************************************************

GENESIS 

Part 3

“Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

**********

 

‘All I am asking is who you really are … and why are you suddenly wearing Cirdan’s ring?’

Mithrandír looked down at their joined hands. He could feel the weight of Narya and as he looked, the ring became visible to him. Then Elrond moved his hand and for the first time, he saw the glint from a blue stone set in a ring on Elrond’s finger.

‘Yes,’ said Elrond, ‘Vilya, the Ring of Air, entrusted to me by the High King. So I ask once more, who are you and how came you by Narya, the Ring of Fire?’ Mithrandír removed his hands and this time, the elf allowed him to do so.

Mithrandír stood and left the pavilion. He walked to the railing and looked down upon the waterfalls that feed into the Bruinen. The valley beyond was bathed in the dying light of Arnor; the sky above was coming alive with stars. He felt Elrond’s presence rather than heard his approach.

‘How long have I been coming here?’ he asked.

‘Over two hundred years,’ came the reply.

‘How do you know this?’

‘Because although Elves are immortal, we do notice the passage of time; things do not stay the same.’

Mithrandír sighed heavily. ‘I have no understanding of this thing called time. I truly cannot remember if I was last here one year or one hundred years ago.’

‘Two years, four months and five days.’

They were silent with each other. Mithrandír cleared his throat which had suddenly constricted.

‘I have had to learn everything. When I arrived, wearing only my wizard’s garb and carrying my staff, the only thing I knew was that I had to find Saruman and somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, I was here to achieve something,’

‘What do …’

‘No, please, let me speak.’ He turned to face the Elf Lord and found himself looking into those beautiful eyes once again. ‘I came to Arda with no knowledge of the peoples I would encounter; yet I had knowledge of the languages, I could speak and be understood; I could also listen and understand.’ He walked back into the pavilion, lifted his goblet and took a sip before continuing. ‘I knew nothing of the customs, the food or drink or manners. You, my dear friend, have helped me gain all the knowledge I needed to undertake my wanderings and not to make a fool of myself.’

Elrond sat opposite him.

‘Emotions awoke in me that I had never experienced before; feelings of anger, hate, sadness, laughter, joy, envy and love. I simply had no memory of them. Especially love. There seems to be a lot of love in Middle Earth, mainly in the form of … erm … well you know,’ he felt himself blush and lowered his eyes. Elrond smiled gently at him.

‘I had to learn and learn fast and you were the architect of that learning. Before coming to Imladris, I cannot tell you how many times I caused insult because I did not know manners or any of the social niceties that even the poorest and simplest folk understood.’

‘How could …’

He held up his hand again to stop Elrond’s interruption. ‘Please my dear friend, let me speak, then you may ask all the questions you desire.’

‘Am I?’ Elrond asked in a voice barely above a whisper.

‘Are you what?’

‘Your dear friend; twice have you called me such this night.’

Mithrandir lowered his head afraid that the elf would read what lay in his eyes. ‘Yes, you are my dear friend.’

‘Good,’ said Elrond, all business like again. ‘Now, on with your story,’ and he made himself more comfortable on the cushions.

‘Um … where was I? Ah yes, learning. I was as a child, untutored, but with your help I learned. You see, my Path is very different to that of Saruman or even Radagast. It would seem that the Head of our Order came here knowing most things, which is only right and proper for the wisest of our Order. Radagast came with knowledge of the races of Men, Elves and Dwarves, but mostly, for some strange reason, his Path is to know everything about the animals of this land.’

He paused in his tale to take another sip of wine. Elrond, sitting amongst the cushions, had one leg crossed over the other. The top buttons of his tunic were undone, revealing the top part of his smooth, muscular chest. The wizard cleared his throat again. Why had he not noticed that before? But then, why should it matter? But again, he wondered what it would be like to lay his head upon that chest and listen to the strong heartbeat?

‘Would you like to?’ Elrond’s voice whispered.

‘What?’ Mithrandir shot his head up and stared at his friend.

‘Lay your head upon my chest. In Common it’s called snuggling.’

‘I wasn’t aware I had said anything of the kind,’ the wizard protested.

‘You didn’t. But you are broadcasting your thoughts … I can hear them all.’

It was as if time stopped. Mithrandir stared at Elrond not knowing nor understanding what the elf had just said. They were here, together, alone and now he was so confused, he wanted to weep and had Elrond just told him that he could hear _all_ his thoughts? He was in turmoil. No, no, surely not? All those thoughts about the elf and …

‘It is our rings, melme,’ Elrond broke the spell as he moved so that he knelt before the wizard. ‘I believe our rings give us the power to mind-speak.’

‘Why have I not been aware of this before tonight?’

‘I cannot answer that, but I can say that since you arrived today … I have heard all your thoughts.’

Mithrandir’s eyes flew wide open in terror and his cheeks turned crimson in his embarrassment; an emotion he was very well acquainted with. ‘I cannot …’ he started to rise, but Elrond was quicker, he caught the wizard by the shoulders.

‘Look at me,’ he demanded.

But Mithrandir would not.

‘There is no shame in what you think, melme. I have long hoped that you would, one day, regard me as more than just a friend.’ There was a catch in Elrond’s voice and a longing in the words when he spoke.

Now Mithrandir met the elf’s gaze. ‘It is not my intent to cause insult …’

‘Why would I be insulted because you think me attractive, or intelligent? Why would it cause me insult because you wish to stay here to get to know me better?’ Elrond reached out his hand and gently, caressed Mithrandir’s face. ‘Do you feel it also? When I touch you, it is like a flame, a heat. It courses through my body like a fire.’

‘I … I … yes,’ Mithrandír could hardly get the words out, his mouth was parched and it seemed his tongue was cleaved to the roof of his mouth. ‘I feel a pressure … a … spark so intense, that it could consume me. And I don’t understand it. Never have I felt this way about anyone.’

‘And would you like to understand it?’

The word would not form on his lips, so he nodded.

 _< <‘Do you fear me and the emotions I make you feel?’_ >> Elrond’s voice was soft within his mind.

‘I … yes …’ He spoke back to the elf. ‘But … this is how I was sent here, in this guise of an old man. What could you find attractive in this?’

‘Then perhaps I see beyond your guise,’ Elrond was leaning in, very close to him now. Mithrandír closed his eyes and mind tight shut in an effort to stop his thoughts being heard by his friend.

‘Do not shut me out, melme,’ he heard the voice next to his ear. ‘Open your mind to me … please.’

‘I dare not. My thoughts …’ but the words died on his lips as Elrond leaned even closer and nipped his ear lobe and he could only gasp at the sensation. Then it stopped. Dismayed, he opened his eyes. Elrond had moved away and was standing up, removing his outer tunic. He then sat back down, wriggling his body until he was comfortable. Mithrandír could only stare at the vision opposite him. Elrond wore a simple shirt of white linen, threaded with gold and simple white trews of the kind he was wearing.

‘So, your story, you can continue telling me.’

Completely confused now, Mithrandír shook his head in an effort to clear his mind; he was still tingling from having Elrond nibble his ear. Unfortunately, that little act had also caused a reaction in the lower regions of his body, the effect was, his manhood was now stiff and throbbing; it was also painful.

He cleared his throat and found his voice at last. ‘I … er … where was I?’

‘Learning,’ Elrond replied.

‘Ah yes,’ he was about to launch into the next part of his story, but for some reason, his eyes, unbidden looked at his friend again. The Lord of Imladris reclined on the cushions and somehow, his shirt was now fully opened, exposing the whole of his chest. One hand rested lightly on the front of his trews where one finger was gently stroking …. pulling his eyes away, he then found himself looking at Elrond’s face. The long, sable dark hair hung loose, free of both the circlet he customarily wore and the intricate braids. His head was tilted to one side and his hair cascaded across the cushions.

It was very hot in the pavilion.

Mithrandír was aware of a heat pulsing through is body, pooling once again between his legs. Oh how he wanted to … he pulled at the neck of his tunic in an effort to cool himself.

‘Shall I tell you something, melme?’ Elrond asked in a voice that was low, dark and so, so desirable.

Mithrandir nodded.

‘I tell you this in the hope it will make things … easier for you. You know of course that I was Herald to the High King?’

Mithrandír nodded, he could do little else; the throbbing in his loins was increasing. He wanted some wine, but he could not move, it was far too painful.

‘I was more than Herald. We were lovers. For countless years we loved each other, sharing joy, despair and the same bed. When he perished in battle, I thought my life could never be filled with light again. But I was wrong.’

‘The Lady Celebrian?’ Mithrandír managed to croak.

‘Yes. The Lady Celebrian brought light and joy into my life and blessed me with three children; and I do love her, deeply. Yet … I am also in love with another. Does this shock you?’

Mithrandír did not know how to respond. He had never had such a candid conversation with anyone before. And yes, he was shocked to know that Gil-galad and Elrond had been lovers; it had never occurred to him that Elrond liked males as well as females. He also felt something else; something that was taking the throbbing between his legs away. He felt the small kernel of jealousy which was quickly turning into anger, how could Elrond say such things to him? Did friends tell each other such things to hurt each other? And who was this other who claimed Elrond’s love?

Elrond sighed. ‘I see you are still trying to understand. Sometimes to truly understand something, you need to experience it, don’t you agree?’

He was unsure what Elrond meant, so when the elf stood up and offered his hand to him, he took it and found himself pulled close to his friend.

‘So perhaps we need to help you … experience,’ and before he could protest, Elrond started to undo the buttons to his tunic.

‘Look, what are you doing?’ he demanded. ‘’I thought you wanted me to continue with my story,’ he tried to bat the hands away from his clothing. Instead, he found that not only were his tunic buttons undone, but the laces to his shirt were open. And somehow, his outer robe was now on the floor. How could that have happened? He tried moving away from the confounded elf and all the emotions that came with being close to him. It was all too much. Look, now his shirt was completely open showing much more of his chest than necessary. ‘Stop this at once,’ he pleased.

‘No,’ came the soft reply.

‘Please … why are doing this?’

‘Because it pleases me and you, dear wizard, please me even more. Is there not something you would like to do at this moment?’ Elrond’s hand was running over his chest and gently rubbed a nipple. His lips were so close; close enough to touch with his tongue. The hand worked slowly downwards, the grey eyes, fixed directly on his.

As Elrond’s hand slipped below the ties of his trews, whatever Mithrandír had been holding in check, broke loose. A fury filled him. To be treated thus, by someone he considered a friend was simply too much. He was confused, hurt and embarrassed. With a speed and strength that obviously surprised the elf, Mithrandír pushed him roughly back onto the cushions and pinned his arms above his head as he sat across Elrond’s lap.

‘How dare you?’ he bellowed. ‘How dare you treat me this way? Is there something I would like to do at this moment? Oh yes … plenty.’

And without giving the Lord of Imladris a moment to respond, he kissed him; long and hard, a rough kiss that was meant to hurt. However, he had not reckoned with Elrond’s skill. Subtly, slowly, the elf’s lips parted and the kiss deepened into something else. Mithrandír’s anger and embarrassment was replaced by a burning that was spreading through his body. His heart raced and someone was moaning; and his hips were now grinding his hardness against the elf. He pulled out of the kiss, gasping for air, only to realise that he wanted to keep on kissing those lips. He plunged back in. This time, he opened his own lips to allow their tongues to meet. His vision darkened and a silence descended upon him. All he was aware of was the pressure building between his legs. With desperate suddenness, the pressure broke and spilled from his body. Wave after wave of warm pleasure coursed through his being and he wanted to feel like this forever. His hips slowed, his breathing slowed and full awareness returned to him.

He opened his eyes and met those of Elrond. ‘What have I done?’ he wailed as he pulled away. But instead of pushing him away in disgust, Elrond pulled him closer, kissing his face and hair. With a cry of despair he tried to break free again, but was held fast. ‘How can you hold me thus when I have mistreated you and in the basest of ways?’

With an easy twist of his body, Elrond flipped the wizard off him so they faced each other, side by side; although Mithrandír hung his head in shame at his actions. ‘Do I look like I have been mistreated, melme?’ said Elrond as he lifted Mithrandír’s face to look at him.

He dared to open his eyes and look again at his friend. ‘No, no you don’t … you look …’ but he couldn’t finish the sentence as he was at a sudden loss as to what to say, so beautiful was Elrond.

‘I thank you once again.’

‘But I have said nothing and you must think me very lustful.’

 _< <‘I think no such thing,_’>> Elrond spoke into his mind. _‘ <<Do you not realise it yet, I am in love with you my delightful Istar?’>>_

‘How do you do that?’ said Mithrandír in an attempt to change the subject.

‘As I said before, our rings; touch my mind with yours.’

Mithrandír closed his eyes and concentrated on sending his thoughts to Elrond. The effect was not what he had expected.

‘Stop!’ the elf shouted, ‘too much, too loud. One thing at a time and … quieter, please.’

So he tried again, this time with a single thought and, at a whisper. <<‘ _I am sorry_ ,’ >> was all he said down the link, << _‘I was …_ ’>>

<<‘ _Caught up in the moment, melme; and it is I who should be apologising to you_.’ >>

Mithrandír frowned. ‘I don’t understand,’ he spoke normally.

‘I pushed you. I had to do something … your confusion and your trying to supress the emotions that were engulfing you … it was tearing you apart. So … I pushed you into a response to release all of your pent up feelings. Now that you have … we can move on,’ he laid a gentle kiss on the wizard’s cheek.

‘Elrond?’

‘Yes, melme?’

‘Why do you keep calling me, beloved? And I think I wet myself.’

‘Because it is my dearest hope you will become my beloved and I … yours,’ and he gave the wizard a squeeze, ‘and you have not wet yourself. It is what happens when arousal tips over into climax. It is very normal; sticky, but normal.’

Mithrandír rolled himself out of Elrond’s arms and threw his arm over his face, hiding his embarrassment. Elrond however, did not appear to at all concerned.

‘Here, sit up and take some wine and we shall talk about what happens next,’ and he moved away.

Mithrandír removed his arm, opened his eyes and sat up. Elrond was kneeling before him, holding out his goblet. He took the wine and had a sip still not sure if the wine was the true cause of everything that had just happened. He thought of the Gondorian saying, << _“When the drink is in, the wit is out.” >>_

 _< <‘The wine helped, but was not the cause,’>> _he heard Elrond’s voice in his mind.

‘I am truly sorry for my actions. I will leave if you request it.’

‘Leave? I was hoping to take you to my bed so we can continue exploring our new found relationship. You, my love, have much to learn. But … if you want to leave … I will not stop you.’

Mithrandír lowered his head to his chest. He was overwhelmed by all the emotions he had just experienced; and here was this beautiful elf, his dearest friend he had all but raped, who now wanted to take him abed.

‘It wasn’t even close to rape, melme. I allowed you to do what you did. I needed you to boil over and send that lid on your feelings flying; which I think you did very well. Did you enjoy it?’

‘I … yes … I think so. It was very intense. I thought I might explode.’

‘And so you did … and very nicely too,’ Elrond stood and offered his hand to Mithrandír and pulled him to his feet. ‘Now, if it pleases you, we will retire indoors to my rooms,’ he leaned in and kissed the wizard’s cheek, ‘we shall bathe and talk about this and … that,’ he smiled; ‘perhaps some fruit, more wine and then …’ He stooped down to pick up the discarded clothing, he handed the wizard his over-gown.

‘And then …?’ Mithrandír frowned.

Elrond shot him an enquiring look and sighed. ‘Whatever you want … or like,’ he stepped forward and placed his hand on the wizard’s shoulder. ‘Do not look so worried, melme, I will teach you … and I will not hurtt you in any way.’ He leaned in and kissed Mithrandír’s lips.

Something the wizard liked. Elrond tasted of sweet wine and his lips were soft and so, so skilful.

‘Good, I thought so,’ the elf said as he pulled away.

‘Am I …?

‘Yes … but I will teach you to control it; never fear.’

They left the pavilion and Elrond put his arm around the wizard’s waist. ‘You may put your arm around me as well … if it would please you,’ he said, dangling the circlet from his hand and twirling it occasionally.

Mithrandír slipped his arm around the elf’s slim waist and found the experience of being close to another person very wonderful. Especially when that other person was so handsome and who he was very much in love with.

Elrond chuckled. << _‘Thank you and I am pleased that you are very much in love with me, melme, because I am in love with you.’ >>_

The soft words caressed the wizard’s mind.

 _< <‘And before long, your thoughts will be mine and mine alone; just as mine will be yours.’ >> _This got him pulled in closer to Mithrandír’s side. Elrond stopped and looked up into the starlit night.

‘Such a beautiful night,’ said Mithrandír.

‘A beautiful night for doing beautiful things, melme,’ said Elrond, ‘look up.’

Mithrandír followed Elrond’s finger as it pointed skywards to a bright star that blinked and shone above them.

‘That is my father,’ the elf said.

‘How can a star be your father? I know who your father is and …’ Mithrandír stopped mid-sentence and caught hold of Elrond’s arm. ‘Are you telling me that really is Eärendil?’

Elrond gave a small shrug. ‘It comforted my brother and myself when we were small and the captives of Maglor. We would look up and tell ourselves that our ada was looking down on us and in some way … protecting us.’

What Elrond had just said made Mithrandír want to pull him into his arms, to kiss him and comfort him; so he did.

‘You are a good and kind wizard,’ was all the elf said when they separated; he then continued on towards the house.

Mithrandír stood for a moment and looked skyward again. ‘If I am allowed,’ he whispered to the star above him, ‘I will comfort him, protect him … and love him.’ He ran to catch up to his love and together they walked into the welcoming arms of the Last Homely House.

 

**********

__

 

_ TRANSLATIONS _

_Ada = Daddy_

_Adar - Father_

_Herren Istari = Order of Wizards_

_Hannon le = Thank you_

_Mae govannen = Well Met – (a usual form of greeting)_

_Melme = Beloved_

_Peredhel = Half-Elven_

_(As always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project; The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company.)_

 

 

 

 

 


	4. Genesis (Part 4)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “One love, one heart, one destiny.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On the assumption The Valar speak an ancient version of Quenya - I have given Lady Nienna a more formal 'Old English' speech pattern.
> 
> ****************************************************  
> Beta by Beckymonster - all remaining mistakes are mine alone.
> 
> ****************************************************

GENESIS

Part 4

“One love, one heart, one destiny.”   


**********

Mithrandír was spooned against the back of the Lord of Imladris, his arm wrapped around his body. He was drifting off into a sleep he had not experienced before. He was tired, of that there was no doubt; he felt calm, satisfied and strangely complete. It had been a most enlightening night.

It had started by bathing. Elrond’s bathing room was large even by Imladris standards. The sunken bath was large enough for six, let alone two. As in his own bathing room, this tub was filled by turning a tap to allow already hot water to flow; Elrond added his own aromatic salt to the water, filling the room with the fresh scent of pine. The elf put him at his ease by speaking quietly of small, inconsequential things. Then came the disrobing; again, Elrond made him feel relaxed by helping him remove his clothes. He then self-consciously lowered himself into the steaming water and sat on one of the small ledges neatly carved into the smooth stone.

Lord Elrond was not the least bit self-conscious, he undressed and actually walked around naked while placing the discarded clothes on a chair; then with a smile, he too lowered himself into the water. It was while they were soaking in agreeable silence that Elrond asked him the question again.

‘You have still not told me how you came to be in possession of Cirdan’s ring.’

Mithrandír told him how, some while back, he had been down in the Southlands and had then taken ship from Belfalas to Mithlond, which is by far the quickest way to travel than trudging north overland. This time, as he disembarked, a tall bearded elf was waiting on the quay-side. He introduced himself as Cirdan the Shipwright and would Mithrandír care to join him for supper? Now he had travelled through The Grey Havens many times and had never met the Shipwright whose home it was. But he had agreed readily enough, it would be better than setting out and stopping at some tavern for food and lodging.

He had spent a most enjoyable evening with Cirdan and was even invited to stay in the elf’s comfortable guest quarters. After breakfast the following day, Cirdan came to wish him a safe journey and as he did so, he slipped a ring off his finger and handed it to him. All the elf said was, “you will have more need for this in the coming age than I. Keep it secret except to the other two Elven ring bearers. Above all, keep it safe, for the hand of the Great Enemy never touched nor despoiled any of the three Elven rings and it must always remain thus.”

Mithrandír admitted that he had been at a loss for words and before he could even thank Cirdan, the Shipwright had bowed low, turned and disappeared into his house. He knew of the Rings of Power of course, it was about the only knowledge he had when he first set foot upon Middle Earth. Still, he had slipped the ring onto his finger, felt it grow to fit his own, larger fingers and then it vanished. He could feel the weight of it, but he could not see it.

That was some years ago now. Since then he had discovered that by concentrating on ‘seeing’ the ring, it would reveal itself to him, solid and burning red upon his hand, otherwise, it remained unseen. He told Elrond that he thought he caught Saruman looking intently at his hand once, but then the White Wizard had shaken his head as if to say, “no-one would bequest a ring of power on Gandalf the Grey”, and Saruman had made no mention of it since.

‘Gandalf the Grey?’ Elrond asked.

‘Yes, it the name that most Men know me by, I am Tharkûn to the Dwarves and Incánus to the Elves of the Southlands. I also have some other, much less complimentary names of the type usually hurled at me as I depart a place,’ he smiled.

‘Do you have a preference?’

He looked at the elf opposite him. ‘Any of the names I own would sound beautiful when spoken by you,’ he felt his cheeks burn yet he held Elrond’s gaze.

‘Now who is trying to seduce whom?’ and the laugh that filled the room was as the ringing of soft bells or chimes. ‘The night grows old and you have not asked anything of my history. I will tell you one thing now … the rest will be revealed over time. What do you choose to know about me?’

‘If it is not to … painful … I would like to hear the tale of your capture by Maglor. I have heard accounts … but to hear it first-hand …’

Elrond’s face darkened and he frowned. ‘Not the usual request I will admit, most wish only to hear of my exploits as Herald to the High King … but your request comes from your heart and your thirst for knowledge, so I will tell you part not all, for I need to keep you coming back to hear more of my tale,’ as he spoke, Elrond picked up a wash cloth and approached Mithrandír. ‘May I wash you as I speak?’

The wizard could merely nod.

So as Elrond, Lord of Imladris washed the body of a travelling grey wizard, he told part of that tale.

Eärendil had already left on his great voyage in search of Valinor leaving Elwing with their twins and her Silmaril. Of the sacking of Arvernien, his home and of the Mouths of Sirion in general in the Kinslaying, he had no memory. He and Elros were mere elflings; he remembered being carried to safety by members of the household. But once outside the city, instead of finding safety, they found the sons of Feanor were waiting. They were handed over to Maglor who rode away with them, taking them away from their home … and their mother. The fate of their nana and ada remained unknown to them until they were old enough to hear the tale which Maglor told in full.

As Elrond washed his body and spoke, Mithrandír found himself drawn into the story; he could see the city burn; hear the cries of those slain and somehow, he could feel the fear and confusion of a small elfling whose life was about to change forever.

Maglor, Elrond continued, was not as lustful of the Silmarils and although he had taken his father’s Oath, he was not as driven as Meadhros, his older brother. Maglor was a scholar and musician, so their education was far reaching and thorough. He was their protector for whatever reasons he had and a bond developed between the twins and their captor. They moved often, but always Maglor taught them. He taught them the love of music and of poems, many of which he set to music and would play upon his harp.

Elrond stopped his ministrations and laid his head upon Mithrandír’s shoulder.

‘So when I look up and see Vingilot and my ada in the sky, I am not alone. He is looking down on me and the light of the Silmaril on the prow of his great ship, is a great comfort to me.’

Mithrandír brought his arms around the elf and held him. And this again, was a new experience, to be holding another in his arms and feeling the love that poured out from that act. Yet this was not the embrace of a lover, it was the embrace of friendship. ‘I did not mean to cause you hurt.’

Elrond lifted his head. ‘No, you have caused no hurt, only memory; and I should think upon these things once in a while. Thank you, melme,’ and he kissed Mithrandír. ‘Now, the water is cooling,’ with that he left the bath and found two large towels. Mithrandír followed him and found himself wrapped in a soft towel.

In the bedroom, fresh fruit and cheese had been left, as had a jug of light, white wine. Elrond poured two goblets and handed one to him.

He cleared his throat. ‘Hrmph … what happens now?’

Elrond raised an eyebrow. ‘Anything you like,’ he said with no hint of humour in his voice.

‘Then … I think I would like to lie abed with you. I have not shared a bed with anyone,’ he paused, ‘well, anyone I even remotely liked … and the drovers from Bree don’t count.’

‘Then that is what we shall do,’ Elrond replied. ‘Naked or sleeping robes?’

‘Oh … ah … sleeping robes,’ and he felt himself blush once again.

As if anticipating this request, Elrond produced two sets of sleeping attire, loose, fine linen trews and over shirts. Mithrandír quickly dressed, eyes closed as he did so, as if by having his eyes closed, Elrond would not see him and his naked body. He then stood by the bed.

The elf came and stood by his side and draped a loose arm around his waist. ‘Do you prefer a side?’

‘No. Which is your side?’ Elrond pointed to the right side of the bed. ‘And the Lady Celebrían takes the other side?’

‘When she stays with me, yes … although more usually, I visit her rooms.’

‘Ah, yes … of course,’ Mithrandír muttered.

‘Please, melme, would you join me in my bed?’ and he gave the wizard a gentle push towards the left side of the bed.

It was a large, comfortable bed. The sheets were clean and crisp, the blankets and counterpane the softest wool. The pillows were ample and filled with goose-down so that your head sank into the deep softness. But however wonderful the bed was, Mithrandír was nervous and lay rigid on his back. Elrond turned on his side to face him.

‘You have nothing to fear from me, Mithrandír, Gandalf, Tharkûn or Incánus,’ he smiled and placed a chaste kiss on the wizard’s cheek. ‘Tomorrow is another day.’

The kissed burned into Mithrandír’s skin.

‘Teach me,’ he whispered, ‘please?’ He turned to face Elrond. ‘I know nothing. I have feelings and emotions I do not understand.’

The elf caressed his face and kissed his lips lightly. ‘It will be a first lesson only.’

What followed was Mithrandír’s first lesson in the art of love, pleasure and pleasing. Elrond was slow, gentle and patient. This night, he showed the wizard those parts of the body that were pleasure spots. How sometimes, touch was better than seeing and how with the tongue, heights of arousal could be reached… and passed. There was laughter and softly spoken words of encouragement. Kisses and caresses were given and received and as Mithrandír grew in confidence, it wasn’t long before elf and wizard were lying against each other, panting and spent. Mithrandír experienced a new emotion in those moments, that of being loved and belonging. For although he did not know how or why, he knew deep within his heart, he and Elrond Peredhel belonged together.

‘That was quite a first lesson,’ he said, running his hands through Elrond’s thick, dark hair, ‘yet, I feel there is something more.’

‘There is melme,’ Elrond smiled back, ‘but that is for another time. Now, this half-elf needs his rest.’

He watched as Elrond’s eyes closed, as having the blood of Men in his veins, the Elf Lord closed his eyes when he sought the dreaming place. ‘Good night, my love,’ and he kissed the smooth forehead before falling asleep himself, in his new found love’s embrace.

 

**********

 

It was the soft calling of his name that brought him out of his slumber. At first, he thought it was Elrond speaking to his mind, but his meleth was sleeping soundly.

‘Olórin, my son, come hither.’

He rose from the bed and went towards the voice. Standing in Ithil’s silver light was the Lady Nienna. Tall she was, with a gown of the deepest blue patterned with the light of the stars. Her dark hair hung below her slender waist and stars were woven therein also; a plain circlet of Mithril was upon her brow and her smile was for her favourite, Olórin. Taking both her hands, he knelt before her and kissed them.

‘Rise Olórin and let us speak together,’ her voice was pure and gentle.

‘My Lady, it pleases me to see thee again, too long has it been and I have sorely missed thy company.’

The Lady Nienna laughed softly. ‘Ah, my child and I have missed thy silvered tongue and merry voice.’ He rose and stood before his Lady. ‘It pleases me that thou hast found love,’ she looked over to the bed, ‘thy choice of lover could not be better.’

‘How so, Lady?’

‘This … liaison was neither foretold nor planned. There are some who think thou shouldst not become involved with any of the Races of Arda, even the Eldar Race.’

‘The Lord Manwë disapproves?’

‘My brother can be … stubborn oft times. Thou art in need of friends, my son, and as thy destiny becomes ever more perilous thou will’st need those whom thou can trust; and Elrond Perelda is a good choice.

‘I think I am in love with him,’ and he dropped his gaze.

With gentle fingers, she raised his head. ‘Do not be disturbed or ashamed of the word nor the act, my dearest child. That he seems to love thee in equal measure is for the good. Thy choice of the son of Elwing and the Mariner pleases me.’

‘But …?’

‘Yes child …?’

‘Lady, why was the guise of old men chosen for the Istari? Now that I have felt the touch of love, how canst he love my form?’

The Lady Nienna walked silently to the great bed. He followed and stood by her side. His physical body was still wrapped around Elrond’s.

‘We thought it best. No-one gives a second look to an old man and wizards are meant to be old.’ She turned to him ‘but know this Olórin, my dearest child, doubt him not. He is his own Elda; he gives of his love where he sees it is fit and deserving. Thou art as much deserving of his love as any other. Cherish it and him.’

She moved away and back into the moonlight.

‘I have counsel for thee. Give Elrond Perelda thy heart and thy trust. I know thou hast been circumspect in telling him of the Istari and the Path thou needest to walk. But now thou has met him and fallen in love with him and he with thee, tell him everything. Keep nothing from him, as from this day forward, thy destiny and that of Elrond Perelda are entwined.’

‘We have mind-speech, Lady. Lord Elrond is certain it is our rings that enable this.’

She shot him a look and a frown creased her perfect brow. ‘Is that so?’ She looked pensive, cocking her head as if listening to some unheard voice. ‘Yes, it is possible,’ she turned to him, ‘this again is unexpected, yet could prove useful. If this mind-speech will work over a distance between the two of you, then yes, yes, it will be useful. It is also interesting that he saw thy ring.’

‘I did not mention it, Lady, he saw it.’

She listened again. ‘My brother is of the opinion that the three untouched rings have this connection. My brother feels it is part of our Father’s plan.’

‘Why was I given the ring and not Saruman the wisest of our Order?’

‘Because it is not his destiny,’ Lady Nienna replied quickly, ‘he has another Path to walk.’

He was certain the Lady was keeping something from him. But he also knew that some things were best left unsaid so that fate and destiny have room to work.

‘Thou art correct in thy assumption, Olórin. As thou travel and better get to know the peoples of this land, thou will also begin to know those thou can trust; those thou should trust, those who are not deserving of thy trust and those thou should never trust.’

He lowered his eyes and smiled, he had forgotten his Lady’s ability to guess his thoughts.

‘The Periandi are developing nicely. Thou shouldst spend more time with them, thou will’st find it … enlightening,’ she laughed again, filling his heart with joy.

‘I had planned on doing so, Lady.’

‘Good,’ she looked again at the sleeping figures, ‘a small token I have for the Lord of thy heart, my son,’ and she moved to Elrond’s side of the bed, leaned in and as she kissed his brow, she breathed over him. ‘There, it is done. Over time, he will come to understand what thou art and thy true form. For now though, he will love the wizard. My time grows short for night is becoming day,’ she walked to the open window and he followed her.

She laid her hands upon his shoulders, drew him to her and kissed each cheek. ‘I chose well in thee, Olórin. Thy Path will grow ever more perilous, but thou will’st have the companionship of true friends and thou will’st be loved and thou will’st love in return. Which Path will be easier? Thy preordained Path or the path of love thou came upon by happenstance? Both will have their twists and turns. Both will have deep chasms and high mountains and neither Path will be easy for thee, my dearest child. But I will be here with thee … always. Come and embrace me.’

He stepped into her open arms and was engulfed in the Vala of Compassion and Tears love for him. He was loathed to leave those arms, but he did and he stepped back.

‘I will never desert thee and heed my words, Olórin,’ her form began to shimmer and fade. ‘He is deserving of thy love and trust just as thou art of his.’ Her form suddenly expanded, filling the room. ‘Do not trust everyone. Trust and respect must be earned.’

She was gone. With her words ringing in his mind, he slipped back into his physical form. Elrond shifted his position and turned to him, his eyes fluttered open.

‘I was having a dream,’ he said.

‘Was it a good dream, meleth?’

‘You were in it and a Lady, she was kind and gentle and I knew she loved you greatly,’ Elrond’s hand fell to Mithrandír’s hip and as his eyes closed again, he pulled him close before drifting back to the dream world of the Eldar.

‘Oh my,’ was all Mithrandír could manage.

 

**********

So started the most joyous of times for Mithrandír, Gandalf the Grey, Tharkûn or Incánus. A deep bond formed quickly between the pair as did their passion for each other. Although they spoke often of their love, the first time Elrond said, “I love you”, Mithrandír had closed his eyes and allowed those words to sink and swirl around every part of his being. Without needing to think, he responded with the same words; and his body started to hum. It tingled and when he reached his hand up to touch Elrond’s face, a spark emitted from his fingertips.

He heeded the Lady Nienna’s words and confided in Elrond everything he knew of his Path and destiny. For his part, the elf listened without interruption and when Mithrandír had finished, he drew him into an embrace and promised his support and love. He said he knew that the wizard was keeping some part of his life from him, but he was willing to wait until such time as his meleth felt able to confide in him.

Elrond also proved an excellent tutor in the art of love, lust and sex. It took Mithrandír some time to fully understand the differences, but soon he knew and understood. Sex happened when there was very little time, mainly before he left Imladris on his travels; it was their way of binding to each other before a long parting. Lust; lust occurred _after_ a long parting. The thoughts of tearing clothes from Elrond’s perfect body made his heart race long before he reached the bridge and the front door of Imladris. Lust was anywhere; against a wall, on the floor, across a desk. Lust meant you never made it to bed. Making love, ahh, that was the sweetest, most exciting and stimulating act of all. Slowly, they would start. Time was taken to arouse, kisses and soft words of love exchanged. The fever would slowly build until it broke, devastating in its power and overwhelming in its emotion.

And of the Lady Celebrían?

Lady and wizard became devoted friends. When he came to Imladris, she would seek him out and invite him to her rooms for tea. Or should they meet in the Golden Wood, they would walk and talk together. It was from the Lady Celebrían that Mithrandír learnt the art of conversation; how to listen, to share ideas and thoughts. Mostly, they spoke of her family or her parents and his travels, but not always; the Lady Celebrían was well versed in literature and poetry and she had a keen mind for politicking.

Only once did she mention his relationship with her husband.

‘Mithrandír, I would speak with you on a … delicate subject,’ she said one day while they were sitting in her rooms, admiring the falling snow, drinking tea and eating the dainty pastries she loved.

‘Indeed, Lady? Then I am listening.’

‘You and my husband share a deep and loving relationship,’ she held up her hand to stop his interruption, ‘I know about his life with the High King; I am not as naïve or innocent as my naneth believes I am,’ she chuckled. ‘I do not mind, only … you must know that I still share his bed and he mine. We still enjoy our love making.’ She paused and placed her hand over the wizard’s. ‘I tell you this because you need to know; because we two are friends and I can live with you and Elrond being lovers. But, _you_ also have to live with Elrond and I being lovers.’

Mithrandír fell to his knees before her and grasped her hands. ‘My Lady, your generosity overwhelms me. Elrond speaks often about you and his love for you. I would do nothing to come between you both. And should you ever ask me to forego him, for you my Lady, I would,’ and he kissed her hands.

‘Then let our friendship grow in kindness and respect for the other my dear Istar, for his sake … and because we both love him,’ she leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

He resumed his seat and she poured fresh tea.

‘Have you heard about Arwen’s latest infatuation?’ she asked as she sipped her tea. ‘He is a Guardian in Lothlorien; I swear she is deliberately driving her father and me to distraction, so she will not be visiting her grandparents for a little while, several hundred years if her father has his way. Have you seen the way he has taken to pinching the bridge of his nose whenever our daughter’s romantic liaisons are mentioned?’

Mithrandír sat enjoying his tea. But he enjoyed the company and conversation with Lady Celebrían much more.

 

**********

 

_ TRANSLATIONS _

_Ada = Daddy_

_Adar = Father_

_Herren Istari = Order of Wizards_

_Hannon le = Thank you_

_Mae govannen = Well Met – (a usual form of greeting)_

_Meleth = Love (as an endearment)_

_Melme = Beloved_

_Nana = Mummy_

_Naneth = Mother_

_Peredhel (S) = Half-Elven_

_Perelda (Q) = Half-Elven_

_Periain (S) = Hobbits_

_Periandi (Q) = Hobbits_

_(As always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project; The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company.)_

 


	5. An Elf Lord's Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond writes of the fateful day when a friend is lost and a stupid argument with the wizard brings more sorrow.
> 
> **************************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not beta-ed - so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> **************************************************************

Chapter 5

_ From The Journal of Lord Elrond Peredhel _

SR 21 October 

_The Perian Frodo Baggins is at last, recovering. Last night I was able to find and remove the last shard of the Morgul blade that was creeping towards his heart. His courage and strength of character humbles me; not many could have resisted for so long. After, he fell into a deep, healing sleep for the rest of the night. This morning, he was demanding breakfast. I will see him later to find out how he progresses and how many breakfasts he has consumed. That he is carrying the Doom of us all will be settled at the coming Council_

_Several days before the arrival of the Perian, my dearest Istar was carried here by Gwaihir. We are polite with each other and he had not yet divulged the reason why he was brought here by the Wind Lord. Although things are improved between us, it is not how it was. We glance at each other, but then the other will turn away quickly as if burned. How came we, who have lived and loved each other for so long, to this? Not able to touch, to speak or to hold each other as we once did?_

_For two thousand years then, we were happy, content with each other. Of course there are aspects of each other’s personality that the other cannot abide. Yet we have managed and remained close and loving; supporting each other as our world changed and evil grew bolder. My heart grows heavy even as my throat constricts in grief at the events of that day and our first argument. It was almost one hundred years ago, though I remember it as clearly as if it were yesterday. We had had arguments and disagreements in the past of course, as any loving couple are want to have; but this was different._

_I have not recorded what happened before now, but it is time for me to write of that day so I do not forget in the coming years; for Imladris lost a dear friend that day, even as I lost my dearest love._

_The incident in question happened a day after one of the worst orc attacks on the Holdings that surround the valley. East, towards the Misty Mountains lies the Holding of Fareth, Lady Holdenwine. Her family had held that land since the Battle of the Last Alliance, when Isildur granted Holdings to his loyal supporters. The Holdenwine family kept the Holding lands in the lea of the Misty Mountains and as with all Holdings that share a border with Imladris, there is an agreement to help protect the valley from attack. In return, we offer healers, trade, sanctuary and if needed, warriors. Imladris also receives a tithe of any harvest. It is an arrangement that worked well._

_As the world changed and the evil of the Dark Lord once again spread like a canker across our beloved Arda, the Holdings were called upon ever more frequently to help fight the increasing number of orcs who roamed the world. And Holdenwine was called upon more often than most; for as now, it was from the Misty Mountains that many of these orcs originated. So frequent did the attacks become many Holdings no longer answered the call to pursue, harry and dispatch those roaming packs._

_Not so Holdenwine._

_Since the first years of this Third Age, they held true to the oath of protection they swore before Isildur and then to myself. And so it had ever been down the years, from father to son. The last four generations of Holdenwine had all been led by women and Lady Farenth was then the current Lady Holder. Her husband, Lord Ruan came from a Holding in the North West and together, they raised four children._

_I knew them all; Lord Ruan and three of the Holdenwine children lay at rest in the gardens of Imladris. For alone of all the Holdings, Holdenwine has paid the highest price for the sake of Imladris, as it had never once refused a call to arms, or to seek out and kill our enemy before they could strike. Oft times we would meet out on the high wold and moors above Imladris as we pursued the enemy and then we would fight together. The Lady Farenth fought as did all her children, three she lost, but her youngest daughter, Mara, still fought alongside her. The Holding became depleted of those young and strong enough to fight, but still she managed to collect a band of stout and stalwart men to ride out with her._

_As with her forebears, she was always welcomed at my House. Elf-friend she was and learned; she spoke faultless Sindarin and read Tengwar as well as any, I should know as she would linger long in my library, devouring as many books as she could manage. She would then proceed to ask questions on what she had just read; and not just of me. Anyone was fair game, Erestor, Glorfindel, the twins; even Arwen would be drawn into her discussions. She played the Battle Game as well, if not better than most and her sense of fun was matched only by that of Glorfindel, who grew very fond of her, mainly because she allowed him to tell and re-tell the tales of Gondolin. She carried that bright spark of life that some mortals carry and which she shared with any who were fortunate enough to call her friend._

_So it was on a day, a bright day in late spring, when a lone rider came thundering into the courtyard of Imladris. Dressed for battle and smeared with the black blood of orcs, the rider dismounted and as soon as the helm was removed the shout went up._

_‘Lord Elrond! Lord Elrond.’ It was Mara, Lady Daughter of Holdenwine. She sank to her knees as she called; Erestor was first down the steps, I was not far behind. Erestor lifted her up, but she pushed him away. ‘Lord Elrond!’ she called again as she slumped against Erestor._

_‘Mara, what is wrong, what ails you?’ I asked as I took her from Erestor. Behind me, Elladan and Arwen came down the steps._

_‘Lord Elrond … they come … mother …’ she crumpled against me, sobbing. I turned to my son, who loved her. Without a word, he took her from me and soothed her with soft words. Finally, she looked up and wiped her tears._

_‘Mother is on her way here … badly hurt. Belly wound from orc blade … think it is …poisoned.’ She fell against Elladan again and he swept her up and carried her into the house. He would keep her safe._

_Then the clattering of many horses was heard coming across the bridge and soon they were in the courtyard. Five riders there were and one carried the body of the Lady Holdenwine._

_‘My lord,’ the man said in Common, ‘she has a belly wound; we got her here as fast as we could.’_

_‘When did it happen?’ I asked, taking the Lady from him._

_‘Yesterday, late … she was beset by three of the filth. One she dispatched, one gave her the wound, I killed it and the other fled.’_

_Even as he was telling me this I was examining her on the cold stones of the courtyard. Belly wounds are the worst. I lifted her chainmail surcoat and saw where the Holding healer had dressed the wound as best they could._

_‘Our healer is good, my Lord, but it soon became clear that the wound was poisoned.’_

_I removed the dressing and she called out in her pain. The wound was malodorous and the edges of were turning black._

_‘Erestor, take the Captain and his men and see to their needs. I will take the Lady into the house and …’_

_But I was interrupted by Lord Glorfindel. ‘… I will carry her into the house; you go and fetch what you need.’_

_With exquisite gentleness, Lord Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower; Hero of Gondolin; Balrog Slayer and personal friend of Námo, lifted the small woman into his arms and held her to his heart. ‘Mithrandír’s room is closest, I will take her there.’_

_I sprinted across to the House of Healing and into my Still room. I collected all that I would need and placed everything into a basket. I unlocked the box containing the most potent of all healing potions. Inside were two small bottles of Loralya Löte, the sleeping flower, I removed one. The distilled liquid of the flower when diluted with wine or water brings on a deep sleep; when given neat, there is no stronger pain relief. It will also hasten death if too much is given. I sighed as I placed the bottle with the other things in the basket._

_I caught Erestor’s eye as I ran back across the courtyard, he nodded grimly and continued with organising the Holdenwine men at arms. I entered the house at a run and was met by Arwen; she carried a soft sleeping gown._

_‘Ada, I will help.’_

_‘No, I can …’_

_‘Ada, have you thought that Lady Farenth may not want you or any male to see her naked?’_

_Of course, no such thought had crossed my mind, I was a healer and the modesty of my patient hadn’t occurred to me. Trust my beautiful, practical daughter to think of such things. I nodded and she followed me into Mithrandír’s room. Glorfindel had laid Lady Farenth on the bed and had already removed her boots and chain surcoat; he held the bloodied chainmail up to me._

_‘She has lost a lot of blood,’ was all he said._

_I nodded my understanding and approached the bed. He touched Lady Farenth’s hand and withdrew himself to the far end of the room. I started to remove the rest of her clothing, but again, Arwen proved the more practical. She produced a slim blade from a sheath on her leg and cut the clothes away. She saw my look of surprise._

_‘If I am ever captured, I will at least be able to kill as many as I can.’_

_‘Whose idea was that?’ She nodded at Glorfindel. ‘Good,’ I said._

_We removed her outer clothes, leaving her small clothes in place. I lifted her short chemise. The belly wound was not that large, although part of her gut looped out of the slash and it still seeped blood. Lady Farenth opened her eyes._

_‘Lord …’_

_‘Shh, mellon-nin,’ I took the bottle of sleeping flower and mixed a few drops with water and helped her to drink. She slipped into an uneasy sleep._

_Arwen had filled a basin with water and I added distilled essence of pine as it had proved useful in keeping infection at bay; I dropped clean linens into the bowl before pouring the same essence over my hands. I suggested to Arwen that she did the same. I cleaned the wound, the Lady Farenth moaned in her sleep. I pushed the small rope of gut back into its cavity and prepared to sew the wound back together. It took less than ten stiches to sew the internal gap together, but the outer layer of skin was ragged and would not hold the stitches without breaking apart. I did my best. It was not a large wound but then, it was not a wound inflicted to kill quickly, it was small and seemingly harmless, a wound that if not poisoned, she would have recovered quickly from._

_With the stitching out of the way and the wound dressed, it was time to make the Lady Farenth more comfortable. With Arwen’s help we lifted her chemise over her head. Her breasts were bound, a common practice amongst those women who wish to fight._

_‘Ada, look,’ and Arwen pointed to the many small wounds that criss-crossed her chest. ‘She is very brave.’_

_I squeezed my daughter’s shoulder. ‘None braver,’ I said._

_‘I will clean her body and place the fresh gown on her,’ said Arwen._

_‘Thank you, I will go to the House of Healing quickly to see if any of her men at arms needs my services.’ I gathered the bloodied and used linens in the bowl to be burned and went across to Glorfindel._

_‘It was a poisoned blade,’ I said to him._

_‘So …?’_

_‘Without the blade that carried the poison there is no way of knowing what the poison is and even then, I may not have had the antidote. I pray to Elbereth that it is not the black, rotting poison …’_

_‘She will die?’_

_‘If it is … yes. If not, we just have to wait. I will keep her pain free.’_

_He was silent for many heart beats. ‘I will keep watch over her,’ he said at last._

_I smiled at him gently. ‘You have my thanks for giving guidance to Arwen. I will not worry so much. How long have you been training her?’_

_‘Long enough so that she knows how to use it with some amount of skill. She is good with a blade; dagger or sword, I would not want to cross her,’ he smiled sadly and went across to the bed._

_As I left the room Mara and Elladan came up to me._

_‘Lord Elrond …?’ Her face was filled with concern._

_‘As you said, it was a poisoned blade.’_

_‘Is there any hope?’ she asked._

_‘We will have to wait and see, the next few hours will tell me more. But … I would prepare yourself.’_

_Without any warning, she flung her arms around my neck and hugged me. ‘I thank you my Lord for all the help you have given to our Holding and to our family. I will never forget your kindness,’ she kissed both my cheeks. It was such a simple act, yet sincere in its execution and again, served to remind me why I loved this family so much._

_‘You may go in and see her; Lord Glorfindel and Lady Arwen are with her.’_

_‘Aye, I will. Then I will inform our men of what … of what may happen.’_

_She was no longer the Lady Daughter Holdenwine; she could soon be Lady Holder Holdenwine._

_The day became evening. Lady Farenth would wake from her drug induced sleep and each time was more painful than the last. The poison was spreading and by nightfall, it was clear this was the black, rotting poison so favoured by orcs. At one point Arwen ushered the males out of the room and when we were admitted again, she showed me the bowl holding the water Lady Farenth had passed. It was thick and brown with blood. Later in the night, I sent Arwen away to rest, but Glorfindel refused to leave. So we both kept watch and in the darkest hours, Erestor came and sat with us._

_We three sat and spoke together throughout the rest of night and by the dawn’s new light, her breathing had become laboured._

_‘You ……. sound ….. like three grandmothers …… sitting by …. the village well ………..gossiping.’ She spoke in Common._

_‘My Lady …’ I said._

_‘Elrond, mellon-nin … I am … blind,’ and she took a huge shuddering breath in and coughed, then retched. I grabbed a basin and she vomited blood. Glorfindel grabbed Erestor’s arm, his eyes wide in terror. She fell back against the pillows and I wiped her mouth._

_‘But … I have been ……..listening ……..to …your ….voices. Like a brook …. flowing over …..pebbles or the …..song of the …….night …..ingale,’_

_‘You should not speak, save your energy,’ I said and dabbed her lips with fresh water._

_‘Nay, my Lord …… I am ……soldier ……enough to know ……..I am …..at the ……..end. And the …..music is ……so ………beautiful,’ her smile lit up her face._

_There was no music, so she must have been hallucinating. I gently drew back the covers and lifted the night gown Arwen had dressed her in. Her legs were black from thigh down to her ankles. The wound was now putrid for all the number of times I had cleaned and dressed it. The black, rotting flesh extended up and over her breasts. I heard Glorfindel’s smothered groan._

_‘Need to speak ….. with you ….Elrond.’ I took her hand. ‘I can only …….ask …. not … command or make …….you take …..oath. Mara ……………..last one … I ask ……. only ….. that you try ……….to stop ……..her ……..taking ….arms … she is …….her ……..mother’s daughter …….it will be …….hard …..but ………..you must ……try.’_

_Each breath was now such an effort she fell silent for so long, I thought she had fallen asleep again._

_‘Is ……Erestor ……here?’_

_‘Ai, Lady, I am here,’ he took her hand and clasped it between his own._

_‘If we two …… should meet ….again ……..you will ….have need ……..to keep ….at least ……one sharp eye ………………………on the ……….Golden …..One …………………………..love him ……………….for me.’_

_‘It will be as you ask, Lady and I would consider you a worthy rival for his affections,’ he lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them._

_She laughed and coughed and her spittle was only blood. Again, I wiped her mouth and wet her lips._

_‘Golden One?’ Glorfindel remains silent. ‘I know …..you are here ….I ……….thank you ………..for …………………being my …..friend. I ………..will …………….miss …you.’_

_The Hero of Gondolin, Balrog Slayer, the fearless Lord Glorfindel stood silent, brought to tears by a mortal woman._

_She managed a smile. ‘If you ………………..are …..weeping …………….I will …………….not …take you ………..to my …………bed should we two …………..meet again. I love …….only ..warriors.’_

_Glorfindel turned away and fell into Erestor’s arms._

_‘Elrond?’_

_‘I am here, meleth-nin.’_

_‘Has the new day ……dawned?’_

_‘Ai, it is a bright spring morning and the birds are singing.’_

_She nodded. ‘I …. hear them. Take me …that ……I may feel ………the …. morning ….breeze on …..my face ….one last time,’ she groaned as a wave of pain hit her. ‘Would you … ho …hold me …. that I might ………die …….in friendly …..arms?’ The effort to speak proved too much and she closed her eyes and tears ran down her cheeks._

_‘I shall do as you ask,’ and I fetched the softest blanket from a chest against the wall. I sat her up and wrapped it around her, then lifted her into my arms. She was as light as a small bird. Erestor placed a comfortable chair by the open doors to the garden. The breeze was cool and fresh and carried the scent of gardens of Imladris. I sat down and she put her arms around my neck and rested her head against my shoulder. Erestor and Glorfindel stood behind me._

_‘Mellon-nin? Do not bury me. My defiled ….flesh ….must not taint …. the earth of ….Imladris …. burn me ….. in the old way. Then lay me to rest above the valley that I may forever look upon this House and all who dwell within.’_

_Her speech became lucid; a sign that death was very close. ‘Erestor, fetch me the sleeping flower juice.’ She let out a scream. How long she had been holding onto that pain, I could not tell. I dropped the juice into her mouth and she swallowed. Her tongue and gums were turning black._

_‘Thank you,’ her voice the merest of whispers._

_I held her, stroked her face, took her hand and pressed kisses upon it._

_‘Who is that?’ she opened her eyes._

_‘Where?’ Three of follow her gaze. There is no-one._

_‘There,’ she nodded across the room, ‘a tall, handsome elf with the blackest hair and eyes. He smiles at me. Elrond! I see it!’_

_‘See what, meleth-nin?’_

_‘White ship; white gulls calling and a white, distant shore. It is beautiful.’_

_I looked at the others. Could it be she was to be taken to Valinor and the Halls of Waiting? Had Námo come for her? Never had such a thing happened in any time in the history of the Eldar._

_‘I am ready and I come, Lord.’_

_‘Meleth-nin!’ I cried. She took a final rattling breath, let it out and then --- silence. I pressed her against my heart; her hand still in mine as I kissed her head and closed her lifeless eyes._

_That is when it happened._

_The door flew open and Mithrandír stood there taking in the tableau before him._

**_‘_ ** _Mithrandír, melme, please give me a moment more and I will be with you,’ I mindspoke him. But he growled in his throat and left, cursing me under his breath._

_‘Give her to me,’ Glorfindel said, ‘you go after him.’ He took our friend from me and I ran after my beloved and caught up to him in the courtyard._

_‘Mithrandír, wait, it is not what you think.’_

_He turned swiftly and glared at me. ‘I see you have found other diversions since I was last here,’ he growled at me._

_‘There are no other diversions, melme, Lady Far …’_

_But he cut me off. ‘I saw quite plainly what you were doing with that ‘lady.’_

_It was the way he said ‘lady’, as if Lady Farenth was a common harlot and I was her consort._

_‘How dare you?’ I shouted, all wit and reason gone. ‘You send no message, written or otherwise and you are aggrieved that I am not pacing up and down my library waiting for your return?’ It seemed that all Imladris had fallen suddenly silent. No sound came from any inhabitant; everything was listening to the anger of its Lord._

_Mithrandír pulled himself up to his full height and bellowed back. ‘How dare I? I have been in Minas Tirith these past years putting together the fragments of tale lost in the mists of time,’ he was poking me in the chest as he spoke, ‘that will give the free peoples a better understanding of what we are dealing with. But, oh no! Trust the mighty Lord Elrond to find a distraction, some … some fair sport to occupy him while I am running around Middle Earth wearing my shadow thin.’_

_We stood glaring at each other. I then spoke the words that I have ever since regretted._

_‘And what is it to you that I find distraction elsewhere?’ Mithrandír’s silence was profound. ‘I … I didn’t mean that, melme … I …’_

_But it was too late. He turned on his heel and walked quickly away._

_‘Mithrandír, don’t leave, stay please,’ I called after him. But he did not turn back; he simply lifted his staff and with a flick, sent a rather nasty punch into my chest which made me stagger back. I was more surprised than injured and I then used our link. ‘It is not what you think, meleth, please come back,’ I begged._

_But stony silence was all I got back._

_I returned to the room, stunned by what had just happened. The sight that I saw made my throat tighten and I felt the hot tears well up in my eyes, even now as I write, the memory of my loss on that day pains me beyond endurance._

_Lady Farenth was laid upon the bed, shrouded in cloth of gold. Her sword was upon her breast in honour of the warrior she was. Arwen stood at the foot of the bed, keening a lament in her pure voice for the fallen and for friends. Elladan was holding tightly to Mara who sobbed onto his chest. The captain of her men-at-arms knelt before his own sword, his head against the hilt, bent in tribute. Elrohir placed wreath of fresh flowers around her covered head._

_The stink of the rotting poison filled the room but was noticed by none._

_‘She wished to be burned in the old way, as is befitting one of the Elendili out of Númenor.’ All eyes in the room turned to me. ‘Her line is of Amandil, Lord of Andúnië whose descendants followed Elendil. The records are held in my library.’_

_Glorfindel let out a keening wail and fled the room._

_Her statue stands high above Imladris in the cool shade of the forest and within earshot of a waterfall. She looks down upon the Last Homely House as had been her wish. Her sword is clasped before her; when the sun hits it at certain times of the year, is flashes and reminds us all of her loyalty and friendship. Golden flowers grow around her feet, even in winter._

_I could not prevail upon Lady Mara to foreswear the sword and battle; nor could Elladan and his love for her. Yet he of all of us understood her need to ride out into the jaws of death to avenge her Lady mother. So he would oft as not, ride with her and they fought side by side until one day … he could not save her. My heartbroken son took her body and laid her to rest in his own part of Imladris. He can often be found sitting and talking to her; he says it brings him comfort and peace. I had also to thank his twin; for without the love and support of his brother, Elladan would have faded._

_The Holdenwine Manor is now in ruins, its people scattered and gone to other, safer Holdings. But I live in hope that should the King return, then Holdenwine will rise again and prosper._

_But now, at this perilous time, with the enemy revealing himself and drawing unto him all that is evil in the world, now it is time for me to reconcile with my beloved Gandalf, Mithrandír, Tharkûn or Incánus, although I prefer to call him by his real name, Olórin. It was forty years before he set foot in Imladris again, with Thorin Oakenshield and company._

_This led to our second argument of which I will not write here; perhaps another time. It has been good for me to write of that day and that time; I lost a true friend as well as my true love._

_Our quarrels must be consigned into the past where they belong. We two need each other, for in our joining is strength and courage; in our sundering lies only hollow emptiness and despair._

_I have been informed by Erestor that the first representatives of the Free Peoples have just now arrived, Glóin and his company of Dwarves from the Lonely Mountain. It only remains for the representatives of Men and the Elves of the Great Greenwood to arrive and the Council can commence._

_By his own hand._

**Elrond**

 

 

_*****************************************_

 

 

 

 

_ TRANSLATIONS _

_Ada = Daddy_

_Adar = Father_

_Herren Istari = Order of Wizards_

_Hannon le = Thank you_

_Mae govannen = Well Met – (a usual form of greeting)_

_Meleth = Love (used as an endearment)_

_Meleth-nin = My Love (used as an endearment)_

_Mellon-nin = My Friend_

_Melme = Beloved_

_Peredhel (S) = Half-Elven_

_Perelda (Q) = Half-Elven_

_Perian (S) = Hobbit_

_Periain (S) = Hobbits_

_Periandi (Q) = Hobbits_

_(As always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project; The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company.)_

 


	6. A Wizard's Tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mithrandír reflects on the second quarrel with Elrond, receives some surprising advice and decides the time has come to make amends,
> 
> *******************************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not beta-ed - so all mistakes are mine alone.
> 
> *************************************************************

Chapter 6

Mithrandír

 

I was half way down to the Bruinen before I realised I had to stop running away.

It is not wrong for Elrond to say the Ring cannot remain in Imladris. He and his household were now riding out nearly every day chasing packs of orcs. Indeed, according to what I have heard around the House, the twins have been out in the wilds for weeks. He had worked his healing magic on Frodo as well; it had taken all his skill to find that final piece of the Morgul blade and by the end, he looked drained and exhausted.

I am a foolish old wizard. I love him and have always loved him; so why is it then that apologising for my behaviour is so difficult?

The river is running deep and clear, I need a pipe or two to help me think; and I know just the place, one that is out of the way of prying eyes and far enough from the House so that I will not be disturbed. Of course, it is one of the places we would come to together when we did not want to be found. I sit in the lea of the friendly oak and fill my pipe.

For two thousand years we grew together in love and friendship. He became my beating heart, my gentle kiss and strong support. And I lost all of it because of my own stupidity and anger. When the twins explained to me the next time I met them in Lothlorien a few years later, that their father was easing the passing of a beloved elf friend, a mortal woman whose family was of the Elendili, I was deeply ashamed. I had ignored all his attempts to mindspeak me … until one day, his voice was not in my mind; he had gone. Then instead of visiting him and making amends, what do I do? Nothing. For almost half a century, I avoided Imladris; always finding an excuse not to come here.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Then Thráin’s map and key came to me and the wheels were set in motion for the reclaiming of Erebor. Bilbo was engaged as burglar for the Company and off we set; our path leading us ever closer to Imladris or as Bilbo knew it, Rivendell.

While there is no love lost between Dwarf and Elf, Thorin and his Company were quite well behaved for the duration of our stay. The same cannot be said for the two elder statesmen who had not seen each other for decades. And if Bilbo was enchanted by the Elves of Imladris, then they were enamoured of him. He would wander the house and surrounds, simply staring in wonder or laughing out loud in joy. The Elves knew and appreciated this and would often walk with him, or sit with him and answer all his questions; and Bilbo asked some excellent questions. And when they discovered he liked food, they took pleasure in feeding him and not wanting to appear rude, he ate all that they prepared for him. The Halls of Fire rang to the tales he told as well, many of which were very amusing and some, a little bit naughty.

But I am falling off the path by digressing; I must bring my thoughts back to the task at hand.

So that day when we arrived in Imladris, Elrond and I greeted each other with bows and polite words. In short, we were courteous and formal with each other. Cool, frosty some might say. Of course it was noticed by all who knew us and his Household avoided us as much as possible. Once, we started to bicker for some reason or other during the nooning meal. Thorin, who was sitting with us, coughed politely and excused himself leaving the two of us embarrassed. Elrond left soon after. So it was for the remaining days. If we met in the House, he would bow to me and move on quickly. I even went to his rooms once or twice only to find them cold and empty; like our relationship at that point.

Fortunately, Arwen was home and kept me entertained with the tales of her newest love; a fosterling, the son of Arathorn and Gilrean. As soon as she said the names, I knew who he was. So the Line of Kings was being protected by Elrond and Imladris? Arwen told me in confidence that she was in love with him, although he was only twenty years old in the reckoning of Men; but he was developing nicely. And she blushed, perhaps this time it was serious, but a mortal and one with a destiny that could change everything? That was not going to sit well with her father.

I saw this Man a day later when he rode into Imladris in the company of the twins. They had been out on patrol for a week. The twins called him Estel and he was tall and lean with the look of a hunter; in short, he was a typical Númenórean from the line of Elros. The twins then occupied me with their stories of errantry and how the blood lust for the death of orcs still burned within them. Celebrían had taken ship and sailed to the Uttermost West many, many years before; they missed her, as did all who knew her.

A day later, Elrohir found me in the library.

‘Mithrandír,’ he said with all the authority of a High Elf, ‘this has got to stop. You and Adar must sort this out now. He is growling like a cornered warg at everyone, so much so even Erestor is rebelling. Stop acting like a pair of teenagers and sort it out.’ And with that he left. I think I stood with my mouth open for many heartbeats, the parchment I was holding falling to the floor. I honestly thought that no-one had noticed; that we were keeping a tight lid on our anger. But seeking out Elrond during the day proved difficult. It was midsummer’s day and Thorin was eager for Elrond to see the map and to be on his way. I think Elven hospitality was beginning to lose its appeal.

So with the map in hand, Elrond walked out into the midsummer night and the new moon that hung silver and bright in the sky. He read those ancient runes and as soon as he had done, he turned to me and I knew that he had guessed our purpose. The meeting went downhill from that point. He asked Thorin if he thought it wise to rouse a sleeping dragon. The argument went back and forth for some time before Elrond suggested that any further discussion could wait until after the meeting of the White Council.

I had been caught off guard. As he turned to leave, I caught his arm. ‘How is it that you have not mentioned this meeting before now?

He stared at me for many heartbeats, then firmly, but gently, removed my hand. ‘I only knew myself moments before _this_ meeting when Galadriel bespoke me.’

Perhaps it was the tension between the two of us, but Thorin, Bilbo and Balin slipped into the shadows and melted away.

‘And you thought to tell me about it only just now?’

He sighed heavily, something he did when keeping his temper in check. Yes, the Lord of Imladris has a temper when _he_ is roused. ‘You wanted the runes read, indeed if I had not read them at that particular point, they would not have revealed themselves. So don’t accuse me of keeping anything from you, Mithrandír.’ He placed heavy emphasis on my name.

We stared at each other for a moment. ‘Come not to the Elves for Counsel for they will tell you bloody nothing,’ I yelled. For some reason, his proximity was unsettling me and when that happens, I tend to lose control of my temper.

‘Elves tell you nothing?’ he spluttered, ‘you dare say that when you have been here, enjoying the hospitality of my House for thirteen days and not one word have you said about your stupid plan.’

‘It is not a stupid plan,’ I bellowed back, at which he turned on his heel and walked away.

And that is when I said those fateful words. ‘Just like an elf to walk away from a situation. The Dwarves are right; you cannot depend on an elf for anything.’

The speed at which he turned around, reached me and slammed me across the crystal table was impressive. My staff clattered to the floor. His face was mere whiskers away from mine, his body taut as he leaned over me.

‘How dare you come back here after so many years without any word and with a foolish plan to reclaim a lost city and in doing so reawaken the worm under the mountain and then you say to me that Elves walk away from a situation like I was some mere … nothing .. a … fair-weather friend?’

His voice was low with anger, as hard as iron and as cold as ice. Yet, even as he pressed against me I could feel the heat from his body. He rose in one fluid movement.

‘We have a Council to attend,’ he said.

I picked up my staff and followed.

Looking back at that meeting I knew that Saruman was changing. Perhaps he had been for an age, but I did not notice it; or perhaps, I did not want to notice. He was after all, Saruman the White, Head of our Order. It was at this Council that I also realised for the first time that Saruman did not like me; he took every opportunity to demean me or say that my fears on the rise to power of the Dark Lord were foundless and I was scaremongering, that I had no proof. I now understand that the proof was sitting opposite me during that Council.

As ever, it was Lady Galadriel who pierced me with her mind and discovered my unease and sadness. The Council progressed throughout the night without any real plans being implemented. Saruman left first, followed by Elrond, just as the streaks of the new day filled the sky. Galadriel held me back. She stood close and tucked a stray strand of my hair behind my ear. Her smile was gentle.

‘They have left already and he will not be pleased. Both of you are acting like spoilt elflings. Make it better between the two of you for in the dark days ahead, you both are going to need each other, for support, for comfort, for friendship and for love.’ She kissed my forehead and was gone, taking the light of the Golden Wood with her. I had sighed but knew she was right, as was Elrohir.

But the deed was done; I knew that Thorin and Company had left before dawn. There would be no more discussion as Elrond wanted. I went to find him.

The quiet of the valley was shattered by the voice of its Lord. ‘What do you mean the Dwarves have left?’ Birds flew up into the air at the outburst. ‘When?’ His voice shouted again. Then silence. I was entering the library. ‘GANDALF!’ I knew I was in trouble as he had never called me Gandalf before that day and that yell contained more anger than anyone living may remember.

I was aware of two things. Firstly, the figure of Elrond descending rapidly on me and secondly, the twins arriving from different directions and planting themselves in front of him. Had they not, I am quite certain I would now be sharing amusing anecdotes with Námo.

‘Adar, stop this now,’ Elladan commanded, holding his father at bay so Elrond could not get to me.

Elrohir took my arm and all but dragged me away.

‘Do not think you have got away with this, wizard,’ came the shout from a furious Elrond.

‘Adar! Enough. Come, I will escort you to your rooms,’ Elladan tone would brook no defiance on the part of his father.

‘You will do no such thing!’ was the angry response.

The rest was lost on me as I was dragged away, but I think something about my dubious parentage was mentioned; I had no idea there were so many colourful Sindarin profanities. Elrohir pushed me into a room; he closed the door and leant against it.

‘This is not what I had in mind when I asked you to sort things out yesterday,’ he said in a grim voice. ‘Mithrandír, I have no idea what is really going on between you and Adar, but I do know it is not about your quest to Erebor or the fact that the Dwarves and Master Baggins have left. Tell me at once or I swear by the Valar I will take you outside and feed you to him, piece by piece.’ Elrohir folded his arms and looked so much like his father I felt a lump in my throat.

So I told him. Told him what I could not tell the father. I told him of the shame I carried from the death of Lady Farenth Holdenwine. Told him how time somehow escapes me; when I think one, it is always three. How I really intended to make amends this time and talk to him, to heal the wounds, but he rejected my attempts. I said it was not my intention to upset him again, but I had, even though he was being unreasonable about the whole quest thing.

‘Clearly it has nothing to do with Thorin Oakenshield and some bloody quest to regain Erebor,’ he snapped at me, ‘it is all to do with how you have treated him these last forty years.’

I bowed my head, he was right of course. ‘I know,’ I admitted. ‘Elrohir?’

‘Yes?’

‘He is my life.’

‘Yes, Mithrandír, at last you admit it. And you are _his_ life, which is why he is hurting so much. He feels utterly rejected by you; just as you feel rejected by him. Since naneth left, you have been his support and comfort; his love and his lover. But you do not contact him, send him word, tell him anything and you _never_ tell him you are coming back.’ Elrohir sighed. ‘He tried many times to contact you with mindspeech, but you ignored him; shut him out. So yes, he is angry with you and rightfully so; he is angry because he loves you.’

This shocked me to my very soul. To hear the son speak of the father so; I knew I was wrong and I hated myself at that point. I slumped into a chair.

‘Elladan is telling _him_ the same thing,’ he said quietly.

‘What do I do?’

‘Leave …’ was the unexpected answer.

‘But …’

‘Leave and go on your quest. But use your link. Apologise to him, then tell him that if this quest is successful, and I pray to Manwë Sulimo that it is, tell him you will be back. He needs to know that you will come back to him. Mithrandír … his greatest fear is losing you, as he did naneth and Gil-galad before her,’ he paused, ‘and you know very well it goes back to his childhood and losing his own parents and then his twin. He has lost so many ...’ his voice was full of sorrow and compassion for his father.

‘Then I just can’t leave again,’ I argued.

‘Elladan, Arwen and I will deal with him. But you must leave now; distance is what is best for now and time will begin the healing between you both.’

I rose and embraced this most noble of Elves. ‘You are a very sensible elf, you know.’

‘Hmm, can’t imagine how that happened; I don’t know any sensible elves. Or wizards,’ and he smiled as he returned my embrace. He opened the door and looked out into the corridor. ‘All clear. Go the kitchen for your supplies and leave by the Eastern Gate and Mithrandír?’

‘Yes, Elrohir?’

‘Remember always that he loves you as much as you love him.’

I nodded and left.

The quest was successful, but at a price; Erebor was regained, Smaug destroyed by Bard and a new prosperity dawned for Laketown and its citizens. And I bespoke Elrond. When I next visited Imladris, we were still formal, but friendlier. It was going to take a lot of effort and some time to bring us back to where we were. But, that is what we did over the ensuing years. It was a slow process, slower than I think either of us thought it would be, but at least we were communicating, smiling and laughing together once again.

The creeping evil grew and before long, I was running around Middle Earth again looking for clues; Bilbo’s ring had always concerned me. Something was not right about it and it worried me. I found the answer in the archives of Minas Tirith and what I had discovered, froze the marrow in my bones. Bilbo had found it, the One Ring. After two thousand years, the last piece of the puzzle fell into place and my task was now clear.

Over the years, I had of course, to seek out Saruman from time to time and our relationship grew ever more fractious. He was changing and I liked it not. Then he revealed to me his true colours; the Many Colours and when I would not join with him in his madness, he consigned me as prisoner to the uttermost pinnacle of Orthanc. Without sustenance he kept me, in the hope hunger and thirst would eventually drive me to join him. But while I looked down upon the land around Orthanc and saw its forest raped by Saruman’s orcs, I knew I would rather die than join with him. How could he think that he could wield a power as great as that of Sauron? Gwaihir, as ever, came to my rescue and carried me here to Imladris. To the Ring and the Council that would determine its fate … and the Fate of us all.

And as well as asking Elrond to keep the Ring in Imladris, I had to break the news to him that Saruman was no longer an ally; indeed, he had become a dangerous enemy.

Three pipes my musings have taken. I tap the dottle out, replace it in its pouch and sigh.

Enough now.

I love him; have been in love with him since I first arrived in Imladris in the early years of this Third Age and now, with the Great Plan moving into its endgame, I need him. We need each other, for I doubt either of us could face the coming battles without the love of the other. I stood, brushed leaves and lichen from my robes and made my way back to the House. I waved to Frodo and Sam who were walking together around the gardens.

Elrond was not in the library, so I went up to his rooms. The door was open; he was standing looking out of the window over the courtyard below. He did not turn at my approach, I placed my hand on his shoulder and he covered it with his own. He was stood watching Merry and Pippin enjoying the sun as they sat at their leisure, legs crossed, with a plate of sandwiches balanced on their laps as they laughed and joked with each other.

'They are so carefree, Mithrandír. So at ease with the world,' he said, and squeezed my hand.

‘They have a great capacity for merriment and laughter,’ I said as he turned to face me; he did not let go of my hand. ‘The time has come for us to talk’.

He nodded and smiled a small, shy smile. ‘Yes. It is time.’

 

**********

 

__

_ Translations  _

__Ada = daddy_ _

__Adar = father_ _

__Anor = sun_ _

__Arda = earth_ _

__Hervenn = husband_ _

__Hervess = wife_ _

_Ithil = moon  
   
_ _Ion-nin = my son_

_Meldanya = my love_

_Meleth-nin = my lover_

_Melme = beloved_

_Mir-nin = my treasure/jewel_

_Naira = Heart of Flame (Elrond's horse)_

_Naneth = mother_

_Nana = mummy_

_Sell-nin= my daughter_

_Telemnar Lestánore = Silver Flame of Doriath_

 

_(As always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project; The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company.)_

 

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Our Lonely Days Are Over

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apologies and reconciliation as time starts running out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta-ed - so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> The usual marks are used when mindspeak is used.
> 
> ********************************************
> 
> The characters remain the property of the Tolkien Estate; I merely play with them and always put them back afterwards. Mostly. No harm is intended and I write for pleasure only, not profit.
> 
> ********************************************

Chapter 7

Our Lonely Days Are Over  


_“A hand upon my shoulder,_

_I knew the touch was kind.”_   


He heard the soft footfalls behind him and he felt the presence of his dearest friend. He knew he had upset Mithrandír by refusing to keep the Ring in Imladris. The wizard had pinned his hopes on Imladris and the power of its Lord to keep the Ring safe. But the power of the Lord of Imladris was stretched to its limits protecting the borders of his land and he had told his friend that the Ring could not stay. The news that Saruman was now also an enemy was disturbing; their list of allies was growing thinner by the day.

The Istar was shocked and angry by the refusal to keep the Ring in Imladris and they had argued back and forth for a long time. Then Elrond had crossed his arms, a sign that his mind was made up. They had stared at each other across the space of the library, a tactic that was as old as their friendship. This time, it was the wizard who had finally thrown his arms up in defeat, stomped off without another word.

There was no need for him to turn in greeting. If Mithrandír had sought him out and come to him, it was time. He felt a gentle hand squeeze his shoulder and he covered it with his own, a gesture and a peace offering. They looked out of the window to the Hobbits below.

'They are so carefree, Mithrandír. So at ease with the world,' he said, and squeezed his friend's hand in return.

‘They have a great capacity for merriment and laughter,’ he said and Elrond turned to face the wizard; he did not let go of the other’s hand.

‘The time has come for us to talk,’ said Mithrandír.

Elrond nodded and smiled a small, shy smile. ‘Yes. It is time.’

'Walk with me, friend,' Mithrandír said, as he made his way out of the room.

'Friend?' The elf replied, falling into step beside him. 'You and I have shared more than a mere friendship.'

They walked together out of Elrond’s rooms and along the corridor to the steps that would take them down into the gardens. They walked through the gardens and down the quiet paths towards the Bruinen in silence and once at the river side, they found the hidden part of the river where Mithrandír had sat a short time before; they sat on a large log, almost touching, but not quite.

Mithrandír cleared his throat. ‘I owe you an apology, Elrond, several actually,’ he spoke slowly, solemnly. Elrond did not respond, so he continued. ‘I have wronged you, twice, three times if you count my outburst earlier about the Ring. I should not have done and I have caused you hurt and for that, I am truly sorry and humbly apologise.’

The soft breeze rippled the water and blew through the trees, rustling the autumn leaves. Elrond stared straight ahead.

‘I have many faults I will be the first to admit,’ the wizard sighed. ‘My fondness for the Hobbit’s weed; my love of good ale and wine; my love for the Hobbits,’ he chuckled softly before becoming serious again. ‘You have taught me so much in our time together, but the one thing I have yet to master, even after two thousand years …’

‘… Your lack of understanding of the concept of time,’ said Elrond.

‘Yes,’ Mithrandír sighed heavily this time. ‘I still do not fully comprehend how days can become years and years centuries and I do not notice the passage of time.’

‘As I have said before on many occasions, as old as I am and for all the centuries Elves live, we do notice the passage of time; whether it is the simple things such as the changing seasons or noticing that our children have children. We take notice and mark the passing of time.’

‘You berate me most gently when I deserve much harsher words.’

Still they stared straight ahead.

‘I will accept your apology on one condition,’ Elrond broke the silence.

‘What condition would that be?’

The elf took the wizard’s hand in his own and said nothing. Mithrandír turned to face him.

‘Confound it all, Elrond! Is that to be it, you wish to hold my hand? Hmmph,’ he glared at the elf.

‘What would you have me do?’ said Elrond, with a faint smile.

‘I …’ but the words would not form on his lips.

‘Yes?’ Elrond turned to him.

‘By Manwë, you know what I would have you do,’ the wizard snapped.

‘Say it all the same.’

‘I have … missed you; missed your wisdom, your knowledge, your delightful laugh. Your infernal habit of always being right,’ he turned to fully face Elrond. ‘But mostly I have missed your touch, your lips and your body. There … I have said it.’ Elrond brought his hand up to his face and caressed it. ‘I have also greatly missed your friendship … and love,’ he finished and rested his cheek on the elf’s strong hand.

Elrond smiled and Mithrandír saw the love contained in those eyes.

‘Your words echo my own thoughts, my dearest Istar,’ and without any warning, he pulled the wizard into him and found his lips. He felt the wizard lean into the kiss; felt lips part and receive his probing tongue. Elrond knew in that moment, it was what he needed also. They parted and smiled shyly at each other. They sat on the log by the swiftly flowing river holding hands; the soft autumn light dappled through the last of the leaves on the tree. The weather was still mild, but within a month, Imladris would be in the thrall of winter. For now though, they let the warmth of Anor soak into their limbs.

'The years weigh too heavily upon our shoulders, my friend. Too long have we denied ourselves joy, laughter ... or love,' said Mithrandír.

'What is this? Talking of love?' Elrond said. 'We are two old men. The first flush and ardour of youth has passed, and incidentally, _you_ were never young.'

The wizard's laugh was deep, rich and surprisingly youthful. 'I must have been young once, wasn't I?'

For all the laughter, there was sadness in the wizard’s voice that Elrond had not heard before. He looked into his friend's eyes. They were kind eyes. As he looked deeper, he saw the longing and love. He reached across and softly cradled his friend's face in his hands again and knowing what the wizard desired, kissed him again. Suddenly, they were in the younger world and the memories of those days flooded back to both of them. Mithrandír's arms around his waist pulled him closer still.

‘I have missed you so much,’ Mithrandír said when they parted. ‘While I cannot take back the words that were spoken in the heat of the moment all those years ago, I very much regret them and it breaks my heart that you and I drifted apart.’ The wizard reached over and moved a stray hair from Elrond’s face.

Elrond let his hand fall to Mithrandír’s chest, watching the wizard's reaction and was rewarded with a wistful smile. ‘If you can find it in your heart to forgive me, for my own words and actions … I have missed you more than I dare express, Olórin. I have locked my heart away since that day when you left Imladris to follow Thorin Oakenshield in his quest. I dared not open it up to anyone, lest it breaks completely.’

‘Elrond, you and I are old fools. We have known each other far too long to allow such trifling quarrels to mar our friendship … relationship … thing.’ Mithrandír smiled.

‘Two quarrels in two thousand years? I think that must be a record,’ Elrond smiled back as he moved his hand across the rough material of the wizard’s robes. Mithrandír insisted on wearing the dull, voluminous and cumbersome robes of a Grey Istar. There were no fastenings as such, only an old belt, cinched at his waist. He had missed this closeness with his beloved friend. Both had their appointed tasks in these perilous times and after their quarrel, Mithrandír had not visited Imladris, or if he had, he kept the visit short and business like although they did speak civilly to each other on those occasions.

They had shared so much over the centuries and had grown close, closer than any other Man, Istar or Elf. Indeed, Mithrandír's understanding of him, of his needs and desires were deeper than that of Celebrían.

'Were we really young?' Mithrandír asked.

'I believe I was once. But I think you, my darling Istar, were born old.' And he smiled as a pained looked crossed his lover's face.

'I fear you are right,' he replied. 'I don't remember being young at all.'

'Then I will remember for both of us,' Elrond said gently. 'These are dark times my beloved Istar, growing ever more dangerous. We will have to make decisions and choices that no one should have to make. I will remember our first encounter; the first time you and I shared love and the first time you told me you loved me … and I you.'

'You know this could be last time we are together, like this, in a time of peace?' Mithrandír said, sitting so close now Elrond felt his soft breath on his cheek. 'I don't want to leave without telling you of my love for you and how much your friendship has meant to me.'

The longing and sadness in his friend’s voice threatened to overwhelm the elf. Never had he heard such word from his dearest Olórin; never had his own need to express his love been so great. Dark were the days indeed if Elrond Peredhel and The Grey Pilgrim felt time pressing in on them.

'Then let us be together.' Elrond answered. 'Let the world outside disappear, for this night and every night until you must leave. I will demand privacy and take you to my bed again. We will tell each other all that needs to be said and we shall love as we did in years gone. We will renew our love and we shall be young again.'

‘I would like that,’ said the wizard, ‘but … in the meantime …’ and he brought his arm around the elf’s waist and pulled him into another kiss. Then hands were touching and caressing as the kiss deepened. They tumbled backwards off the log as they lost their balance and laughed.

‘I have missed the taste of Longbottom Leaf, or is it Old Toby?’ Elrond said.

‘Old Toby, nothing finer, except apples and late blooming roses of which you taste; and in your eyes I see the Light of Tirion once again,’ Mithrandír replied.

They lay on the soft earth hidden from view by the great log and held each other close. It was Mithrandír who lowered the barrier on his mind first and allowed his meleth to speak to him once again. The words of the Elf Lord flowed through him; words of love, words of forgiveness and of the terrible loneliness Elrond had experienced during their separation. He told the wizard of the regret he felt and lastly, of the fear of losing his lover for ever.

‘My actions caused you great pain, my love,’ he spoke the words in a whisper rather than use their mind-speech, for if he had, the gates of his own regret and despair would have flooded out and overwhelmed the elf. ‘For that I am truly sorry. I have missed you so much. Let us then leave the past where it belongs and let us forge a new friendship, a deeper relationship; one that will endure all that is to come as our world grows darker and ever more dangerous.’

Elrond nodded and allowed his hand to snake around the wizard’s waist and pull him in closer. They kissed again and allowed their hands to now touch and begin to remember those places that would elicit a groan or a gasp of pleasure. They grew bolder as their minds joined and they remembered the others times when they had shared their love. The rolled together, first one on top, then the other. They laughed at the sheer joy of being together once again. Mithrandír reached up and removed the circlet from Elrond’s brow and let it fall to the ground. Swiftly, he pulled off the elf’s outer robe and commenced to undo the top buttons of his tunic. For his part, Elrond was trying to undo the belt that held the grey robes in place. In between they kissed; lips, neck, eyes and ears. Elven ears are sensitive and Elrond let out a low growl as Mithrandír sucked on his.

‘Gaaandalf?’ A voice in the distance called.

They stopped and looked at each other.

‘Confound it all,’ Mithrandír muttered.

‘Gaaandalf? Looord Elllrond?’ The voice was closer this time.

‘What do we do?’ Elrond, whispered. ‘I for one say you use your magic to hide us from view. Don’t know about you, but I am enjoying myself.’

The wizard let out a long sigh, gently pushed his lover off him and sat up. ‘We protect your reputation,’ he said as he pulled the elf up, brushing twigs and leaves from his hair as he did so.

‘What about your reputation?’

‘I am a wizard; therefore I have no reputation to lose. Now, let us adjust our robes.’ He patted Elrond's hair, making it presentable. He bent down, retrieved the gold circlet from the ground and gave it to the Lord. For his part, Elrond smoothed and brushed down the wizard's robe, then flicked a small leaf from his hair.

‘Gaaandalf?’

‘Over here Frodo.’ And he stood and waved to the Hobbit, who waved back.

‘I am still in love with you, Olorín.’

‘I know my love; as I am with you. Did you want me, Frodo?’

The Hobbit came over to them. ‘Gandalf! Lord Elrond! I’m glad you are together, saves me looking for the other once I had the found one,’ Frodo smiled at them. ‘I was sent to find you, other representatives have arrived and are seeking private meetings with you both,’ he looked closely at the two before him. ‘Er, Lord Elrond, did you know you have a twig in your hair?’ He smiled broadly as Elrond located the errant twig and removed it.

‘Indeed, as you say, most fortuitous that we were together. Who sent you looking for us by the way?’ Mithrandír asked.

‘Strider, of course. C’mon, you don’t want to keep the dignitaries waiting, do you?’ and he turned and started to walk back towards the House.

‘There are times when I could quite cheerfully strangle Estel,’ Elrond grumbled.

‘Then I suggest you form an orderly queue behind me,’ said Mithrandír as they followed Frodo, hand in hand, neither caring if the Hobbit turned and saw them.

‘He has recovered well,’ Elrond said under his breath.

‘That he has; there is untapped strength in Hobbits, they never cease to amaze me.’

‘I can hear you, y’know,’ Frodo turned to them and laughed. ‘What were you doing down there anyway?’ his face a picture of innocence.

‘Talking,’ the two replied in unison.

‘Strange sort of talking that needs you to lie on the ground, wouldn’t you say?’

Wizard and elf looked at each other. ‘I suggest you hold him while I hit him,’ said Elrond.

‘You get all the fun,’ Mithrandir muttered, making Frodo laugh out loud.

‘Do you know who these latest arrivals are?’ Elrond asked, changing the subject.

‘Elves from Mirkwood and a Man of Gondor,’ Frodo answered.

‘Then it would seem that the Council is complete,’ Elrond sighed as they approached the House, ‘and our time together is now limited, the Council must commence tomorrow.’

 

**********

 

The rest of the day has past slowly for each of them. Much of the time was taken up with the representations made by the different groups who had arrived for the Council. They had seen these representatives both separately and together. During those meetings, how many times they had looked at each other and sighed, wishing for the hours to speed by?

Then, as soft evening descended on Imladris, Elrond announced to all that he and Mithrandír had grave matters to discuss and would forgo the evening meal. He craved the company's forgiveness, but there was still much that needed planning. He and Mithrandír would be in his private rooms, possibly all night and did not want to be disturbed. They bowed to the gathered company and walked away, backs straight, heads high, two Statesmen going to a private Council.

As soon as it was decent and when they were unobserved, they laughed, like two errant boys.

'Grave matters?' Mithrandír wagged his finger. 'What 'grave' matters would they be?'

'Supper of course; I do not intent to go hungry this night, whether it is for love or food.' Elrond guided the wizard towards the kitchen.

The cooks nodded to their Lord and his Istar Counsellor and allowed them to choose what pleased them. They loaded a tray with cheeses, bread, honey and fruits. The wizard snatched a flagon of good wine as he passed. Elrond carried the laden tray and led them back to his apartments. They met only one person on their way; a very bemused Estel bowed as they passed.

'I hate it when he smiles like that,' Elrond said when they were out of ear- shot. 'I always think he knows something.'

'And does he?

Elrond chuckled. 'It is possible. Estel is very perceptive, but discreet.'

'He should make a fine King then.'

The wizard opened the door to Elrond's private rooms to allow the Elf through, and then closed it. There was no need to lock doors in the Last Homely House, an open door meant you were free to enter; if it was closed, then you waited until the occupant opened it again. When the door of Lord Elrond's room was closed, no one dared disturb him, except perhaps, Lord Glorfindel, who was widely known to be not only brave, but sometimes foolhardy.

Elrond placed the tray on a large table, caring not that it covered maps and parchments. Mithrandír was already pouring wine and handed his friend a goblet. They sipped the sweet wine and eyed each other over the rims. A smile curled on the face of the wizard. He put down his goblet and held out his hand.

 _< <'_ _Come, beloved._ '>> Speaking mind to mind again, he took the Elf's proffered hand and led him to the middle of the room. << _'_ _Stand for me, please.' >>_

The Elf Lord did as he was bid.

The Grey Istar circled him once, then reached and removed the gold circlet from his head, placing it carefully on a small table. Then he reached behind and released the small butterfly clasp that held his warrior plaits in place. They fell to the side of his head and with deft fingers, he also released them from their adornments. Once free, he ran his hands through the dark hair, sweeping it up and letting it fall like silk through his fingers. He led the Elf to a small stool and pushed him down. Once in place, he combed his love’s hair with a small, silver comb. He combed evenly and gently, allowing the Elf to enjoy this sensuous and intimate act.

 _< <'So beautiful. So soft. It shines like the night.'_ >> And he lightly kissed the top of Elrond's head.

He pulled him to his feet and slipped off the long over gown that was the Elf's usual outer garment. It pooled at their feet. He moved in closer to unbutton the fine tunic and as he did so, Elrond took the change to steal a kiss.

'Do not tempt me yet, elf,' he muttered. << _'I have plans for you this night and soft kisses will not avail you.' >>_

Elrond saw his meleth’s lips part in a smile and saw the long years lifted from his face.

 

**********

**__ **

**__ **

_ Translations  _

_Ada = daddy_

_Adar = father_

_Anor = sun_

_Arda = earth_

_Hervenn = husband_

_Hervess = wife_

_Ithil = moon_

_Ion-nin = my son_

_Meldanya = my love_

_Meleth-nin = my lover_

_Melme = beloved_

_Mir-nin = my treasure/jewel_

_Naira = Heart of Flame (Elrond's horse)_

_Naneth = mother_

_Nana = mummy_

_Sell-nin= my daughter_

_Telemnar Lestánore = Silver Flame of Doriath_

 

_(As always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project; The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company.)_

 

 

 


	8. Oh, What a Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Making up for lost time, Elrond and Mithrandír spend a night of passion together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter with lots of slash and therefore explicit male/male sex - well, neither of them have had any fun for a long time. You have been warned.
> 
> ****************************************  
> A big, warm 'thank you' to Beckymonster for beta. All remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> ****************************************

 

Chapter 8

Oh, What A Night!

 

Mithrandír busied with the small buttons of the tunic until the last one opened to his touch. He slipped his hand under the material, brushing the soft skin as he did so.

Elrond leaned to him and spoke in his ear. 'I do not tempt you, beloved. Indeed, it is you who tempts me with your delicate touch and the hardness of your pleasure.'

This brought nothing but a playful 'tut' from the wizard as he continued the removal of the tunic. As the garment slid to the floor, he leaned in and kissed the cleft where shoulder and neck meet. This brought a groan of pleasure from the other's lips. The wizard allowed his tongue and mouth to travel down the length of his lovers arm, down to the fingers. He kissed and sucked each one in turn.

The Elf Lord leaned his head back and gasped again as the sweet mouth of his beloved continued its journey across his chest and then down to where his pleasure was lodged, hard and throbbing. The wet tongue did not stop, but traced a line down to his growing need. He felt hot breath through soft fabric and feeling he could no longer confine his hardness, he slipped his hands down to release the ties that held his trews around his waist. The wizard brushed them away. He reached down to remove the soft slippers Elrond was wearing.

_< <'Be not so hasty, Elf. This is my time and I will take as long as I need.'>>_

_< <'And my need is great, Olorín-nín. I have awaited this time for many, many years and I fear your gentle ministrations will make me spend long before you have finished.'>>_

Mithrandír rose and faced him. Elrond was taller by half a hand, but still the wizard's eyes pierced him to his very soul. Mithrandír’s hand came up and cupped his love's face. 'My beloved, the solace I find with you is my joy,' he said. 'Forgive me if I take too much for granted.'

Elrond silenced the lips with a finger. 'It is only that you excite my senses beyond endurance. We have spent so little time together in recent years; we have a lot of missed opportunities to make up for.'

Mithrandír hummed to himself as his fingers played with the soft length of the elf's hair.

It was Elrond who laughed now. 'You may continue,' he paused, 'I am calm again.'

'Ah yes. Where was I?'

'I believe you were about to remove the last item of my clothing.'

The Istar pulled him close and locked their lips in a kiss as his hand reached down and untied the laces that would finally release the trews. He slowly pushed them to the floor where they joined the other discarded clothes. They moved together, each turning the other as they plunged deeper into the kiss.

The press of his lover's body against his naked flesh inflamed Elrond's passion once again and he felt himself grow and harden against his belly. The wizard was also rigid with need as they moved and thrust against each other.

Finally, they broke away and with exquisite slowness, Elrond unfastened the buckle of the leather belt at the Istar's waist, dropping it to the floor, he guided his beloved to his large bed. With a small push, the wizard sat on the edge; with another, he lay flat on his back. Without taking his eyes off his lover's face, Elrond removed the worn boots and then slid the long, rough garment up and over the wizard's head revealing yet another layer.

He tutted his annoyance.

The wizard laughed again, reached up stroked the Elf's cheek with a gentle finger.

'I'm meant to be old and feel the cold,' he said by way of explanation.

As the Elf Lord pulled another two under tunics off, he made sure his hands brushed against the smooth skin. He straddled his meleth to remove the last item and as he did so, he could feel the wizard's hardness beneath the course material. He groaned as Mithrandír's hand found his own erection. But he ignored the exquisite throbbing to concentrate on removing the wizard’s trews.

‘I’m now too exhausted to do anything,’ said Elrond, as the trews were removed at last and consigned to the floor with a flourish. He threw himself into a heap on the bed as if to prove his point. ‘Start without me, I’m taking a nap.’

Mithrandír laughed out loud. << _I most certainly will not. Besides, you would enjoy watching me start without you.' >>_

Elrond sat up and ran his hands over the other's body, and sighed. It was smooth and well-muscled; the skin was soft and supple and in the light of Ithil, it seemed almost luminescent. He let his head fall to take a nipple into his mouth. He rolled it around his tongue and bit gently until it stood firm and erect. He moved to its twin, suckling and pulling until he heard the groan of pleasure from his love. He lay down then, next to him and allowed his legs to entwine with those of the Istar.

Mithrandír's hands were on his back, running gentle fingers down the length of his spine, stopping just above the cleft of his buttocks, then back up to his neck. They locked eyes as hand explored every inch of each other's flesh, stroking and kneading, remembering; trailing fingers around mouths and allowing just the lightest of teasing touches to their hard cocks.

'Have I told you of the joy you bring to my heart, meleth-nín?' Elrond asked between kissing his love's eyes, then cheeks, then chin, then neck.

'Not recently, light of my heart,' was the breathless reply.

_'_ Then I do. Too long have you been absent from my bed, dearest friend and lover. My nights were empty and my days too long without your sweet kisses and your blesséd company.'

Mithrandír's mouth dropped small butterfly caresses over the Elf's chest, slowly working his way lower. He circled around the dip of the navel, then, with his moist tongue, he touched the very tip of the Elf's engorged cock and tasted the tiny pearl of moisture that rested there.

Elrond caught his breath. << _'My love for you grows stronger as the years pass. You know me like no other. You understand me like no other and you love me like no other.'_ >> He grabbed the sheets and groaned as the Istar took his entire length into his mouth. << _'Ai! Beloved.' >>_

He curled the Istar's hair around his fingers as the head rose and fell. Then in one fluid movement, Mithrandír was up and kissing him again, rolling his tongue around the elf's, probing and sucking.

'You say what I hold in my heart, meleth-nín,' Mithrandír said as they parted for air. 'It will only be the thought of seeing you again, even for the briefest of moments that will keep me on the road ordained for me. My nights will be spent reliving the love we have shared and the pleasure you give me.' The Istar's voice was full of longing and sadness, and the elf drew him to him, and rocked him in his arms.

_< <'Shh. Love. Tonight we have each other. Tonight, Ithil shines her silver light only on we two.'>>_

Even as he spoke, the pale moon revealed herself from behind a cloud, bathing the lovers in her soft glow. Elrond traced the line from his lover's chin down to his chest.

_< <'This night is as long as we care to make it, to do with what we please.'>>_

'Then what is your pleasure, beloved elf?'

In answer, Elrond rolled his Istar onto his back and straddled his hips.

'You are my pleasure now and forever, Olórin-nín.' And with that, he took the Istar’s engorged length into his mouth, enveloping him completely. His dark hair falling like sable waves across the other's belly.

He felt Mithrandír's hips buck as his excitement grew and revelled in the ecstasy he knew his meleth was feeling. He was aware when the other quickened his pace and guessed that his climax was near. Carefully, he sucked harder and hearing the gasp at his lovers certain crisis, he disengaged his mouth and deftly brought his fingers to hold the throbbing cock just below the engorged, velvet tip. Exerting gentle pressure with his thumb, he watched as the wizard's climax subsided.

'Ahh. My beautiful one. Your skill with that particular technique is exemplary.'

Elrond threw back his head and laughed. << _'I would not let you spend so quickly, love. I want you hard and needy for a while yet.' >>_

The Istar sat up, embraced him and, winding legs around each other's waists, they kissed. Flesh pressed upon fevered flesh as they sucked and probed their mouths, eager for more delicious arousal. Touching and stroking in unison they inflamed each other, until at last, they each dropped a hand to the other's pulsing need. Gently fondling, allowing sensitive hands to slide over and back from root to the throbbing head of their cocks only heightened their joy. Locked in the deep kiss, their passion was reaching its crisis.

_< <'Do you wish ...?>> '_Elrond heard the voice in his mind but stopped the question in mid-sentence.

_< <'I want this, like this. To watch your cherished face as our essences spill onto our hands and bodies. For our hearts and love to be mingled as one.'>>_

Mithrandír dropped his head to the Elf's neck, kissing and licking the sensitive flesh. His lover followed with the same. All the while their hands keeping perfect rhythm with each other, pressing ever closer to each other as they thrust urgently against hand and belly. The wizard snaked his arm around his lover's waist, sliding his hand down until it found the taut ridge it sought. He pressed his fingers along the delicate, hidden cleft.

Elrond groaned as yet another exquisite sensation flooded his body.

'Meleth-nín,' he cried, following the other's example and slipped his fingers down towards the wizard's secret opening.

'Ai! Mir-nín,' Mithrandír moaned. << _'I love you.' >>_

There was not a hair's breadth between them now, their senses and passion expanding into a spiral of ecstasy. They reached their climax together; as their seed spurted onto hands and belly, it mingled; two becoming one. They looked at each other and time, for that moment, stopped as their bodies trembled, their senses exploding in passion and love. They lay entwined in that embrace, neither one wanting to move or break the sacred connection.

The Elf Lord shivered suddenly against the wizard.

'What do you see, Elrond?' Mithrandír asked softly.

'Darkness and fire,' Elrond replied, and his head fell to his meleth’s shoulder. He shivered again.

Mithrandír broke the connection and helped Elrond into the waiting bed. He gathered the elf into his arms. 'Tell me,' he said.

_< <'I see darkness pierced by a great fire. The darkness is vast and the fire is plunging downwards.'_ >>. He lifted himself on an elbow and looked at the wizard. 'I fear for you, Olórin-nín.'

The Istar reached up and caressed the face that was so dear to him. 'My destiny is pre-ordained, dear one. You and I both know this. If I am to end my days in fire, I am prepared.'

'But I am not,' Elrond's reply was fierce. 'I have no wish to lose you again.'

'I will ever be with you, my dearest elf. Have not our essences been mingled, are we not joined body and soul? I have ever carried your love for me in my heart as I know you carry mine in yours.'

Elrond gently kissed his lips. << _'I know what must be done, but it pleases me not, beloved.'_ >> He lay down again in the crook of the Istar's shoulder.

The moon cast her silver light over them.

Mithrandír laughed suddenly. 'Do you remember our first meeting? I came here in the early years of the Third Age. I’m certain Erestor thought I was some itinerant tinker come to sell you worthless cooking pots and he told me that you were not available. Celebrían welcomed me and you … you found me looking through your papers in the library. _You_ thought I was a spy or at worst, an itinerant thief.'

'I did not,' came the indignant response.

'You did. I have not told you this before, but when I saw nothing but lists of tithings and crop yields I thought you must be boring.'

Now Elrond laughed. ‘And was I?’

‘No. You were gracious and took me to have tea with Celebrían. We had dainty cakes and talked of nothing. You didn’t like me.’

‘I always liked you,’ Elrond protested.

'I was sure it was because I didn't look like Saruman. I think you preferred Saruman over me, I am Grey and he is White.'

By now Elrond, who was doubled up with laugher, poked him in the chest. 'It was because you always turned up here having not bathed in years and you always seemed to have a bird's nest in your hair.'

'Now you compare me to Radagast,’ and he made a face that brought more laughter from the elf. ‘Anyway, it was only that one time and it was a twig,' the Istar laughed.

'A very large twig.'

They kissed, still laughing.

'Meleth-nin?’ Elrond broke the silence. ‘You said earlier today that you were born old. Do you have any memory of a time before you came to us?'

Mithrandír sighed. 'I remember ...' He paused for many heartbeats. 'I remember music, a magnificent song that I sometimes hear in my dreams. It was there before I came into being. It was there when I opened my eyes for the first time.'

Elrond kissed his lips gently. 'Manwë Sulimo sung you into being, Meldanya.'

'When I came to Middle Earth I knew my journey, what my appointed task was and where it would take me.'

'I have long suspected you are Maia.'

'Have you indeed?' The wizard caught the Elf by the hip and effortlessly, pulled him so he was lying on top of him. Elrond's hair fell like a soft blanket over the wizard's chest. 'And why have you kept this to yourself all these years?'

Elrond caught the other's hands and pinned them above his head, he then began kissing every inch of the strong body. Teasing kisses that spoke of perhaps more love and passion to come. Then, in a fluid movement he was out of the bed. He passed his own robe to Mithrandír.

'I'm sticky and so are you. We shall bathe,' Elrond smiled as he slipped on another gown.

'Ha! I think bathing is the last thing on your mind,' Mithrandír said, accepting the offered robe, he drew the elf close, tucking a stray hair behind his ear.

'We shall see,' Elrond answered and taking the wizard's hand, led him down a short corridor to his bathing room.

'Ahh. I think you have this planned,' the wizard laughed.

'Of course. I remember the first time you told me of your feelings for me. It was here, in the bathing pool.'

The Istar moved to him and with a finger, pushed the robe from his shoulder.

'How could I forget? The sight of your body inflames my senses now, just as it did then.' He bit the exposed flesh of Elrond's shoulder.

'Ai. The feel of your sweet mouth on my body is more than I can bear, now as then.'

He slipped the robe off and breaking free, led the wizard down the steps into the pool. The warm water lapped at their chests. They sat opposite each other, allowing the water to caress their bodies.

'I loved you for five hundred years before that first night,' Mithrandír said.'

'You disliked me; you thought I was haughty and cold.'

'Not so. I needed to keep you at arm's length lest my passion was revealed.'

'You took great delight in revealing your passion to me the first time.' The elf laughed.

'Meldanya. I did no such thing. We Istari are very reserved and supposedly old. We are beyond reproach.'

Elrond was laughing so much now he swallowed a mouthful of water and spluttered. The wizard moved to him and thumped his back.

'Reserved?' Elrond managed to say at last, but this only made him laugh more.

'Remember, I knew nothing of the act of love. It was you who taught me.' He ran his hand over the elf's face and down his chest, letting it rest over his heart.

'But once you had learned all I could teach, you overcame your reserve, you fell on me and ravished me.'

Mithrandír allowed his hand to fall to the resting object of his desire. He smiled as it sprang to life in his hand.

'Did you once complain?'

‘How could I complain with your tongue in my mouth? You loved kissing me.' With that, he bought his mouth down onto the wizard's. He sucked at the lips, probed the honeyed mouth with his tongue. The wizard's mouth opened against his and now two tongues joined in the dance of desire.

The wizard then pushed the elf against the side of the pool, his arms outstretched.

'I remember the first time we made love, real love; we came in here to bathe and you held me against the side, just like this,' Mithrandír said.

'And I said to you, "Why do you inflame my senses with such sensations, Meldanya?"’

'Meldanya? Am I truly your love?'

The Elf took him by the hips and drew him close. He felt the shiver of desire pass through both their bodies. His own passion was making him harden more.

'I wish for nothing else, if you want me.' Elrond spoke softly, his words jagged and breathless.

'How could I not desire you? Your beauty surpasses anything I have seen or am likely to see in this life.' The wizard's hands were working their way over the graceful body of the elf as he spoke, his firm manhood pressing eagerly against his lover's hardness.

'Ai. Meleth-nin. If you so desire me, I am yours.' And he found the wizard's mouth again, kissing him with a passion that made them both gasp. 'As you held me against the side you said to me “I do not know what I should do, what you expect of me, what would give you pleasure”.'

Mithrandír ran his hands through the Elf's long hair, gently pulling his head back.

He then kissed the soft skin on the exposed neck. His tongue traced a line up to one delicate ear. Elrond shivered in delight as the Istar's tongue licked the sensitive tip and groaned as gentle teeth bit into the lobe. Then the tongue began its descent down to one erect nipple, then across to the other. He plucked at it with his lips, then biting gently, teasing it into yet firmer fullness.

He looked up at the Elf Lord. 'Does this please you as it did that day?'

A low groan escaped Elrond's lips. 'I will tell you if anything displeases, my love.'

Mithrandír chuckled in his throat.

'Good.' And with that, he lifted the Elf out of the water with a strength that belied his aged look. He set his lover on the low step that led into the water. Now he had his meleth where he wanted him. Kneeling before him, with the warm water lapping around his legs, he lowered his mouth onto the elf's engorged cock. He licked it from tip to base and back again. A moan issued from Elrond, his face contorted with pleasure.

'Beloved, how well you do that. But I will spend if you continue.'

The wizard did not stop his licking, but rather, quickened his pace. Then he left the now throbbing cock to lap at the delicate sacs, taut with passion and on to that most hidden of openings. His tongue licked and probed as Elrond shuddered in delight.

'You play with my feelings, Istar. You drive me to the very brink of sweet oblivion. Ai!' he cried as the tongue thrust at the soft crease.

Mithrandír pushed him onto his back and brought a leg up to his shoulder, he stood poised with his urgent cock pressing against that secret place.

Elrond stared then into the eyes of the wizard and fell into the depth of the song that had bought the Istar into Creation. His head rang with the glorious music of the Valar, even as his lover thrust himself into him. The warm water lapped about both their bodies, heightening the sensations they were both feeling.

Mithrandír leaned forward, taking his weight on strong hands and arms.

'What do you want, beloved jewel?' he asked.

'To be forever joined to you in blessed union and love,' was the soft reply.

_< <'You speak for me.'>>_

_< <'Ai. Olórin. Meldanya.'>>_

The wizard kissed the soft lips as he increasing his rhythm, Elrond pushed his cock into the soft belly of his lover and once again, his mind was filled with music.

_< <'Olórin?'>>_

_< <'My gift to you, beloved.'>>_

As the music reached its crescendo, so did they reach their joint climaxes. Hot passion flooded through their joined bodies as the wizard's seed pumped deep into the elf even as his seed spilled onto the Istar’s belly.

With his eyes tight shut, the Elf Lord heard the song fade, and finally disappear. When he opened them again, he stared not into the face of Mithrandír, but another. Olórin, young and a bright whiteness shone about him.

As gently as the lapping water, the wizard slipped out and pulled his love into him as he guided him back into the pool. He held him. The dark hair falling over him as his love nestled his head in the crook of his shoulder. He kissed the hair softly and ran a finger across the beautiful jaw line.

'What was that?' Elrond spoke at last.

'My gift, love.'

'The music or the vision?'

'The music only, as ever, the vision is yours alone.'

'Do you remember our very first night together? I turned to you in bed and told you I had a dream.’

‘I remember.’

‘It was the same vision. I saw you as you really are. I understand now.’

It was now the wizard’s turn to be surprised. ‘I was visited that night by my Lady Nienna. She said she would give you a gift. I always thought that I was that gift.’

‘You are. I am nothing without you,' Elrond said. ‘Like a night without stars, rain without a rainbow or a rose without fragrance. Our first time was just like that, only, without the music in my mind and the vision of ...'

'Sshh. Do not speak of that now. Come, let me wash your divine body.' Mithrandír left his love to fetch a cloth and soap. 'I don't recognise the perfume of this,' he said, sniffing the soap.

'Cinnabar and clove. Arwen thinks it is very ... male.'

'It does have a certain tang to it,' the wizard replied as he washed every inch of the Elf's body. Then it was his turn and gentle hands caressed him. They did not need to kiss; the touch of the hand and the heady fragrance of the soap was enough for now.

Leaving the pool together, Elrond passed his lover a large drying cloth before taking one himself. Picking up the discarded robes, they walked back to the bedroom. As before, Elrond sat first as the wizard combed his hair; he did not plait it, but allowed it to flow freely so that it cascaded over his shoulders and down his back. They changed places and the Elf Lord performed the same task, combing the white locks to smooth tidiness. When he was satisfied that the wizard's hair would take no more grooming he guided him back to his large bed.

Ithil shone her silver light on the two lovers as they lay locked in an embrace, neither kissing nor touching. Rather they allowed the feeling of naked flesh upon naked flesh to fill their senses.

'What can I gift you, beloved?' Elrond broke the silence.

'I am holding in my arms the only gift I desire.'

'Meldanya, the music? And the vision?'

Mithrandír looked deep into the other's eyes. 'From this time forward, when we are apart, think of me and you will remember the music; think of it as Manwë's gift from me to you. As to the vision, that is unknown to me and must be of your own mind. I had no part in that.' He stoked the Elf's cheek. 'Tell me what you saw.'

'You. Young and clothed in white. You were surrounded by a white light, so bright that it near blinded.'

'Young?' Mithrandír laughed. 'You saw me young? You are losing your senses, elf.'

Elrond poked him in the chest. 'I stand by what I saw. You looked younger, less care worn.'

'Ah, less care worn? I like the sound of that,' and he laughed again.

'The sound of your laughter is as music to my ears,' the Elrond brushed his finger over the other's lips. << _'Meldanya?' >>_

_'_ Yes?'

_< <'Will you forgive me for what must pass tomorrow? I will be sending you away on a quest that even I fear may bring doom to us all.'>>_

_< <'There is nothing to forgive, jewel of my heart. We have our appointed tasks. You will be in no less danger here in Imladris than I ... wherever I am taken.'>>_

Elrond held his face. 'You must come back to me, Mithrandír.' he said fiercely. 'I could not face the time left to me on Arda if you were not with me.'

'And when you leave for the West?' the wizard answered gently.

The Elf leaned up on his elbow and looked at the Grey Istar. 'My dearest wish would be that you are with me.' He placed a chaste kiss on the other's forehead.

'And Celebrían?'

'She had long known of my love and desire for you.'

'Say that again.'

'She had long ...'

'No. About love and desire.'

'My love and desire for you.'

The wizard pulled him roughly down and kissed the soft mouth.

'The words from your lips are honey and wine,' he said.

'And your kisses are the petals of a fragrant rose,' the Elf replied.

'Your soft breath is as a warm summer breeze.'

'Your firm body as lithe and as strong as a young oak.'

The wizard paused for a moment. 'Your touch is fire on my flesh.'

'And your flesh is my elixir of love.'

'My ... My love for you is deeper than the Sundering Sea.’

Elrond laughed. 'My love for you is more precious than all the jewels of the dwarves.'

'Um ...'

'Would you forfeit? Elrond asked.

'Ha! I love you more than a dragon's hoard.'

'And I love you more than there are stars in the sky.'

'Valar. I should have said that,' Mithrandír grumbled.

'Admit defeat, Istar, then I can claim my forfeit.'

'Never.' He thought for a moment. 'I will never stop loving you.'

The Istar's eyes were filled with a desire and love that brought a catch to the throat of the Lord of Imladris.

'Meleth-nín,' he caught the wizard and kissed him, probing his mouth with his tongue, which soon had them moaning as one. 'I concede.' Elrond said as their lips parted.

'Does that mean you will not love me forever?'

'Indeed not. It means that I, Elrond Peredhel, Lord of Imladris, Lore Master and Herald of the High King cannot match your words, my dearest treasure and greatest love.'

They entwined legs, bringing them close.

'You did not answer my previous question, elfling,' he teased.

Elrond sighed, burying his neck in the wizards' shoulder.

'If you come with me across the Sundering Sea, I will talk to her and ask that she grants me this one thing. I will not lose you, beloved. For although I love my wife, I love you more.'

Strong arms held him tightly. 'And my first question?'

'Which question?'

'How did you know I was Maia?'

There was a silence between them. Their bodies rising and falling at each breath and Elrond stared long into the eyes of his lover. 'When I look into your eyes I see a young world. I see joy, laughter and love. If you were truly old, even as a Man, your eyes would hold many dark things. Pain, loss, suffering. Look into my eyes, Mithrandír and tell me what you see.'

The wizard held his gaze for many heartbeats. 'I see stars and battles. I see Gil- Galad, young and strong and I also see him fallen. I see your pain and longing. But I also see your joy. Your children, Celebrían and I see ... me.'

'Even an Elf Lord cannot hide his memories from a Maia. You are dearer to me than my King.'

Mithrandír caught his breath and took the face of the Elf and held it in his hands.

'Say not this to me, Elrond. For I know the depth of your love for the King. I cannot, would not, usurp his place in your heart.' With that, he kissed the eyes that held tears that sparkled like gems in the moonlight.

'Then I will hold both of you in my heart and ask the Valar to keep you safe on this journey that you must take.' Tears flowed freely down his cheeks and he allowed the wizard to take him in his arms and rock him like a babe. 'For should I lose you, Meldanya, I fear my grief will be unbearable, even for this great Elf Lord. I have lost too many of those I hold dear.'

'I am ever yours, beloved, and by any means, I will keep myself safe.' He lowered his head and found the waiting mouth.

They kissed, gently at first, then fiercer, tongues and teeth grinding against each other. Their hips moved and as they inflamed their passion, so they grew to rigid hardness that pressed against their nakedness.

Mithrandír pulled away sharply, grabbing the elf by the hair, he was breathing hard and his eyes were wide with need.

'I need you, beloved. Enter me, fill me with your hardness and let me feel you deep within my very core.'

'Olórin I ...'

'Do this for me. For I know not when we will meet again for love after I leave.'

Elrond nodded. 'My need for you is great, beloved. But I would not want to hurt you.'

The Istar smiled. 'Dearest elf, have I ever hurt you?'

Elrond shook his head. 'Not once.'

'Well then – come and love me. Fill me with your hard length and love me. Make me cry out with desire. Become part of me and my love.' He pulled the Elf to him and kissed him. With his tongue, he licked the soft flesh of the mouth, then he licked his lover's neck and his delicate ears, feeling the Elf judder with delight. 'I do believe you enjoy being seduced.'

Elrond laughed. 'I enjoy being eaten by you, Istar.'

_< <'What about here?'>> _ His mouth dropped to a nipple.

_< <'Aii! That is good.'>>_

_< <'Here?'>> _He trailed his tongue down to the rigid cock lying flat against the elf's belly. He licked the tip and small slit were a small drop of liquid was now seeping out.

_< <'That is also good.'>>_

With an Elf's strength, he pulled Mithrandír away from the object of his desire and kissed him hard. He let his hand fall to the wizard's jutting need and rubbed the length of it. Then he pushed the wizard onto his back and straddled him.

Mithrandír looked at his beloved and thought him magnificent. His hair fell around him, black, wild and untamed. His eyes held the fire of lust and desire; his lean body glistened with sweat and his cock stood proud and erect. He groaned. He wanted that cock inside more than anything he had ever wanted. The thought of it nudging against his tight, forbidden hole and then pushing into him almost brought him to his crisis. But as usual, the elf had other ideas.

Elrond looked at his beloved Olórin. He ran his hands along the chest, along his arms. He reached behind him and stroked the long, muscled legs. He committed each contour to memory. Then he leaned forward and kissed him, roughly forcing his mouth open, sucking the lips and probing with his tongue. He felt Mithrandír's hands come up to hold his head and as they did, he grabbed them, pinning them behind the wizard's head. Then he continued his assault on the Istar’s mouth.

The wizard groaned as the Elf attacked his ears and neck. _'Valar, but you have a heat in you.'_

_'It is you who will have a heat in you, soon enough, Istar_.'

Without another word, he flipped the wizard onto his belly and caressed his back. He kissed the strong muscles of the shoulders; kissed down the spine, not stopping as he reached the round firmness of the buttocks. He gently bit into the fleshy mounds, which bought a loud moan from the wizard. He pulled Mithrandír's hips to him and sat him on his lap. He nibbled his neck while his hand sought and found his lover's throbbing cock. He thrust his hips slightly, so as to let his lover feel his hardness and to bring him closer to the brink of pleasure.

The wizard was panting with need. His whole body pounded with his life- blood. His need was building, but still he delighted in the ministrations of Elrond. Never had this beautiful elf been so forceful. Oh, how he wanted to be joined to him as never before.

_'Do you like this, dear one?'_

A groan issued from Mithrandír's lips. _'_ Ah! Yes ... yes. I can feel your hardness and your breath upon my neck. I burn for you, beloved.'

Elrond's fingers gently dipped into the fluid that leaked from the wizard's engorged cock. With the swiftness of a feline, he pushed the wizard forward and anointed the tight crack with the fluid, making it slick. Then he leaned against his lover, the tip of his cock nudging against the tight opening. He heard the gasp form the wizard and stopped.

_'Do I hurt you?'_

_'Never. I want you. Please.'_

The Elf pushed again, harder this time, the lubricant making his way easier. He slipped in and now it was he who gasped. His was held in a tight grip, yet one so soft, he trembled. He pulled out and plunged straight back in, all the way this time.

A triumphant shout issued from his lover's lips.

Now he moved his hips, pumping gently but steadily. He could not believe how wonderful it felt. His cock squeezed tight, his lover before him and he was pleasuring him in the way he wanted. The feeling nearly overwhelmed him. He quickened his pace, leaning forward again to grasp the wizard's pulsing member in his hand. Elrond felt his climax imminent, the sensation spreading like fire through his body.

_'_ Beloved, I am going to fill you.'

_'Ah! Dearest love. Yes.'_

_'Call my name.'_

_'Elrond.'_

_'No. Out loud. I want to hear my name on your lips as we reach our bliss.'_

Elrond thrust harder and slid his hand faster along the wizard's shaft. He felt his senses tingle, his mind and eyes growing unfocused.

'Elrond.' He called.

'Louder, Meldanya,' and he thrust ever deeper.

'ELROND! BELOVED.'

Mithrandír was beyond bliss. The hand that worked his cock nearer his climax was steady and gentle. He felt his lover's other hand on his hip, steadying them both.

Elrond knew he could hold back no longer. With one last stroke, the wizard's seed spurted onto his hand. He withdrew from his lover then thrust once more, harder and deeper. His head filled with music as his body exploded into his lover's. On and on went his climax as with each thrust his pleasure and that of Mithrandír increased.

'Olorin. Meldanya.' His voice cried.

'Elrond. Melme,' came the response.

He slowed until finally, utterly spent, he stopped.

'Aiii!' Was all he could say as he slumped across the wizard's back, panting.

_< <'_ _Aiii indeed_ ,'>> the voice in his head said with a soft laugh.

Soft now, he slipped from his love and rolled to him to be gathered into waiting arms.

_< <'Let me tell you how much I love you.'>>_

_< <'I know, my beautiful elf. I know.'>>_

Wrapped together, they slept.

 

 

****************************

Translations 

_Ada = daddy_

_Adar = father_

_Anor = sun_

_Arda = earth_

_Hervenn = husband_

_Hervess = wife_

_Ithil = moon_

_Ion-nin = my son_

_Meldanya = my love_

_Meleth-nin = my lover_

_Melme = beloved_

_Mir-nin = my treasure/jewel_

_Naira = Heart of Flame (Elrond's horse)_

_Naneth = mother_

_Nana = mummy_

_Peredhel (S) = Half-Elven_

_Perelda (Q) = Half-Elven_

_Periain (S) = Hobbits_

_Periandi (Q) = Hobbits_

_Sell-nin= my daughter_

_Telemnar Lestánore = Silver Flame of Doriath_

 

_(As_ _always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project; The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company.)_

 

 


	9. If You Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fond farewells as the Fellowship prepares to leave Imladris. Disaster follows as Mithrandír then Elrond, fall into darkness.
> 
> ********************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta by Beckymonster - I owe you a pint (at least) darlin'! All remaining mistakes are down to me.
> 
> ***************************************

 

Chapter 9

If you fall

 

They awoke together at the first light of dawn and smiled softly at each other.

'Good morning, melme.' Elrond said.

'Good morning, my beautiful one,' Mithrandír replied.

'Do you think we were heard last night?'

'I don't doubt it.'

Elrond stretched his long frame. 'Do you think my guests will be scandalised?'

'Every last one of them, I expect,' he said, stretching in turn. 'Of course, they are just jealous.'

Elrond laughed and touched his finger to the wizard's nose. 'Food and a bath? Or bath and then food?'

'Love, food then bath.' He pushed the Elf back and put his tongue to work.

Their lovemaking was slow and leisurely, as if both knew that once the Council was over and plans set in motion, their time together, like this in intimate unison, would be very limited. They climaxed together, and spent, lay tangled together, legs, arms and hair entwined as one. They held each other, loathed to let go and when the Elf Lord looked at his beloved's face, he saw tears rolling down the dear cheeks.

'Weep not, Olórin-nin.' He wiped the tears with his hair then kissed the salt tinged eyes.

'You have always made me feel loved and cherished, Elrond. I will set this night and any remaining days we have together in my memory so as to think on them in the cold, lonely nights ahead.'

'I will speak to your mind as often as I dare, love. But I fear our enemies will increasingly know when we do.'

Mithrandír left his lover's arms and crossed to the food from the night before, still untouched. Elrond followed and placed his robe around the other's shoulders. They choose their breakfast and sat on the floor by the open doors of the balcony. Elrond laid his head in Mithrandír's lap as they picked at cheese and bread. The wizard stroked the dark hair and looked out onto the new, autumnal day.

'Do you think that Frodo will take the Ring?' Elrond asked.

'Yes. If he is half the Hobbit I think he is, he will.'

'War is coming beloved and Imladris will prevail over that evil. But my people will depart Arda. How came we to this?'

'As ever beloved, we have to do that which is ordained for us. Too long have we toiled for the downfall of Sauron and all his evil to fail now. You know this, as do I. It is the Will of Valar that we fulfil this task. We cannot turn from it, now, or ever.'

'Come,' Elrond pulled the wizard to his feet. 'You can bathe me and comb my hair, for I know how much _that_ simple task pleases you.'

Long did they stay in the comfort of the warm water. They spoke softly of the years they had known each other. Recalling events and incidents, they laughed and kissed. Then, they dried each other, stroking their bodies dry with gentle hands. The Elf Lord dressed the wizard in his old robes and placed the worn boots back on his feet. Elrond choose his clothing carefully for the day. Soft grey trews under a long, pale purple tunic, decorated with silver designs; over all, he wore his long, deep wine gown.

Mithrandír combed his hair until it glowed. Then he plaited the side strands in the old way, as the High King wore his hair, dual strands joined by small, gemmed clasps and on the ends, delicate, silver cones and the silver butterfly he set at the back. He then reached for the gold circlet.

'No, beloved; today, I am Elrond, Herald to the High King; Master of Imladris and Lord of the Noldor of Middle Earth, bearer of that which I will not name. Today I will wear Mithril, as befits my station.'

Mithrandír replaced the gold circlet and lifted the Mithril one from its place. He set it gently on the elf's brow. Pulling Elrond to his feet, he stood and admired him.

'Have I told you how beautiful you are?'

'Not today, not yet.' Elrond replied, blushing slightly.

'You are the most beautiful elf I have had the good fortune to know. I love you with all my heart and I give thanks for all the joy you have brought to me. Elrond beloved … kiss me.'

With gentleness and care, the Elf Lord snaked his arms around the neck of the Istar and kissed him long and deep.

'Keep yourself safe Olórin, Meldanya. You must come back to me.'

They stepped back from each other, smoothed their robes and walked from the room.

 

**********

 

Mithrandír took his chair next to Frodo. He gave the Hobbit an encouraging smile.

Elrond stood to speak, addressing the gathering in the Common tongue.

'Strangers from distant lands, friends of old. You have been summoned to answer the threat of Mordor. Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite or you will fall. Each race is bound by this fate, this one doom. Bring forth the Ring, Frodo.'

He turned his eyes and looked upon the Istar. << _'And you are beautiful to me.' >>_

_**********_

 

Elrond hurried through the corridors towards his rooms were Olórin would be waiting for him. It was mid-morning and all was now prepared and the Fellowship was ready to depart. The wizard had left their bed early, without even a good morning kiss, let alone anything more intimate; but he understood. The days since the Council had passed swiftly and although they had spent each night together, it was not long enough. Now the time had arrived. Olórin had spent much of the morning talking quietly to the rest of the Fellowship, giving encouragement, especially for the young Hobbits, who for the first time, understood just what they were undertaking and where they were going. Of the Nine Walkers, Olórin alone had not asked nor volunteered to be part of the Fellowship; it was pre-ordained, it was his Destiny. And Elrond was frightened for him.

They had spent the previous night quietly together. Indeed, all members of the Fellowship had taken the opportunity to be with friends and to make their farewells. Arwen had gone to her rooms early and taken Estel with her; he did not begrudge his daughter a last few hours of solace in the arms of her lover. Had not he and Olórin done the same?

The door to his study was open but the wizard was not within. Then he heard the soft humming coming from his bedroom; he stood on the threshold and watched his meleth. Olórin was walking around the room touching all of Elrond’s personal effects.

‘I wish to remember all of things in this room … including their owner,’ he turned and smiled sadly at the elf.

‘Come then and touch me,’ Elrond replied.

Olórin approached him slowly. He stopped an arm’s length away and reached out his hands. With eyes closed, he ran his hands over and down Elrond’s hair; then across his face, gently drawing the outline of his jaw; the lips, the nose and his eyes followed.

‘Why do you not open your eyes and look at me, melme?’ Elrond asked.

‘Sshh! I am committing you to memory,’ the wizard admonished.

So Elrond stood quietly as Olórin ran his hands along his arms and hands. He touched each finger in turn before moving on to the elf’s body. Elrond barely contained a laugh as a hand found a ticklish spot.

‘Sshh!, he was told again.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered.

The wizard dropped to his knees, feeling each leg in turn and with a satisfied sigh, he sat back on his heels.

‘Finished?’ Elrond asked.

‘Yes.’ He took the offered hand that helped him to his feet. ‘I love you,’ Olórin said simply.

‘Yes. I know.’ They stood facing each other. ‘I always hoped this day would never arrive,’ said Elrond.

‘I know.’

‘But here we are.’

‘Yes, here we are,’ Olórin replied.

Elrond coughed and turned away, he moved to a table and made a show of re-arranging things. ‘You will take care of yourself,’ he said at last.’

‘Yes.’

‘No heroics or unnecessary risks?’

‘No.’

‘Good,’ the elf sniffed and cuffed a tear away from his cheek.

‘Do not weep, beloved. I cannot bear the thought of leaving you and you weeping for me,’ said Olórin.

‘Not very dignified or Lord like, is it?’ Elrond sniffed again.

‘Not very,’ the wizard reached out his hand and placed it on the elf’s shoulder. ‘Look at me, Elrond.’

Slowly, he turned to face his meleth. ‘Olórin …’

‘Say nothing, beloved, nothing. For all it would take is one word from you and I would not go.’ They embraced, gently at first, then fiercer and harder.

‘I love you, Olórin, Mithrandir, Gandalf, Tharkûn or Incánus; remember that on the long journey. Bring yourself back to me.’

‘I will. I promise.’

‘Will you kiss me?’

‘No, for if I did, I would not let it end and we would make love and I’m afraid … we have run out of time.’

Elrond nodded. ‘I have something for you.’ He left the warm embrace and went to a small cabinet in his study. He withdrew a small flask. ‘It is not much, but I made this batch myself, one sip will be enough to restore the spirit and I know there will be times when there will be need for spirits to be lifted during this quest … thing.’

‘Miruvor … and made by your own hands. A magnificent gift, beloved.’ He placed the flask in a safe pocket inside his robe.

‘Well … I’m ready,’ said Elrond.

‘Oh … what for?’

‘My stoic farewell to The Nine Walkers,’ he smiled weakly.

‘I will miss you, beautiful elf.’

‘I should hope so! How many others can claim to have shared not only the bed of the Lord of Imladris, but his gorgeous body as well?’

‘Hmm … let me see,’ and Olórin started to count on his fingers. ‘Well, there was the High King, Celebrían …’ Elrond cuffed him. ‘And we mustn’t forget the Galadhrim … or the sailors.’

‘Olórin!’

‘It is the memory of your gorgeous body that will keep me warm at nights, dear one.’

Elrond held his arm open. ‘Come, hug me then leave, for you are becoming impertinent.’

Gladly did the wizard embrace his beloved and then he caught the elf’s lips in a deep kiss.

‘Thank you,’ said Elrond when they parted.

‘My pleasure.’

With arms around each other, they left the study and made their way to the courtyard and the waiting group.

 

**********

 

Frodo sat by Aragorn. ‘They’re taking their time,’ he said to the Ranger.

‘Last minute discussions … and goodbyes I should think,’ Aragorn replied.

‘Ha! Last minute romance; last minute adjustments of clothing and last minute clean up if you ask me,’ Frodo smiled.

‘You shock me, Frodo!’

‘No I don’t.’

The Ranger chuckled. ‘You are right. And … you are wrong as well.’

‘Speak plainer; all your time around Elves has made you speak in riddles.’

‘You are right about me not being shocked… but wrong about them making love. They are both Statesmen, they know the graveness of what we are about to undertake and they would not allow themselves to succumb to their love for each other this morning.’

Frodo sighed. ‘Have they been lovers long?’

‘Since the beginning of this Age, but they have had their fallings out for all they love each other.’

‘Oh?’ Frodo perked up at this, he sensed a story. ‘Do you know what they fell out over?’

‘I do,’ was all the Ranger would say.

‘And you’re not going to tell me, are you?’

Aragorn nudged the Hobbit and smiled. ‘It was over small, silly things. But it devastated them both and they didn’t really talk to each other for nearly a hundred years. More than that … you will have to ask Gandalf … or Elrond.’

‘Oh yes, remind me ask Lord Elrond about it when we return, I’m sure he will give me all the details,’ was Frodo’s reply. ‘But they are back together again, aren’t they. I mean, they really love each other don’t they?’

‘They do indeed love each other, Frodo.’

‘Do they also think that none of us have noticed that they always seem to need to ‘discuss' everything in private, at night, all night?’ he grinned.

‘And those discussions include shouting each other’s names all night?’ Aragorn added.

‘Yes.’

‘No. They think we are all none the wiser … and deaf,’ Aragorn allowed himself a smile.

‘I’m glad Gandalf is coming with us … I do like him, always have, since I was a young Hobbit in fact.’

The Ranger looked at the Hobbit. ‘Then you should tell him.’

Frodo nodded and was about to reply when Aragorn nudged him. He turned to see the Lord of Imladris and Gandalf come out of the House together. The Company rose and went towards them. Frodo only heard half of what was said; he was too engrossed in looking from elf to wizard. They stood close together, robes touching. Gandalf stared at Elrond while the elf gave an encouraging speech. Frodo thought he could see the deep love that was contained in that gaze. It also seemed to him that Gandalf was speaking to Lord Elrond with his eyes. Finally, Elrond stopped and turned to Gandalf.

_‘Mela en’ coiamin. Lissenen ar’ maska’lalaith tenna’ lye omentuva.’_

Gandalf inclined his head in acknowledgement of this blessing.

Frodo leaned into Aragorn and whispered. ‘What did he say?’

‘It was something for Gandalf only.’ The Ranger remained inscrutable.

Elrond then turned to the rest of the Fellowship. ‘May the stars shine upon your face and may the Valar keep and protect you,’ and they all bowed to the Lord of Imladris.

Gandalf joined his companions and Bilbo came down the steps now and stood with Elrond. ‘Good … good luck,’ he cried. Frodo shouldered his pack and smiled at his uncle. ‘I don’t suppose you will be able to keep a diary, Frodo my lad, but I shall expect a full account when you get back. And don’t be too long. Farewell!’

Frodo waited. No-one moved. Aragorn leaned down to him. ‘As Ringbearer you must lead us out of Imladris,’ he muttered.

‘Oh,’ was all the Hobbit could manage. So he walked forward purposefully and the others fell in behind him.

_< < ‘Do not be gone too long,>> _Elrond mindspoke the wizard _._

_< < ‘I will come back to you, beloved.>>_

_< < ‘I am going to hold you to that, meleth.>>_

_< < ‘Farewell, Elrond, my love.’>>_

_< < ‘Fare you well, Olórin, my life.’>>_

Frodo looked back and saw Arwen come and stand by her father and put her arm around him and the two of them watched as the Fellowship left Imladris. Frodo knew that as Elrond was watching his lover depart, so the Lady Arwen was also watching hers go to whatever fate lay ahead for them.

Gandalf moved to the front with Frodo as they climbed the path that led out of the valley and onto the high wold beyond.

‘Arwen will take care of him, Gandalf; don’t worry,’ said Frodo.

‘Eh, what? Oh yes, I’m sure they will look after each other.’

‘He will miss you.’

‘Nonsense. Lord Elrond will have more important things on his mind than a grey wizard.’

‘If you say so. But my guess is that he will be counting the hours until your return.’

‘Lord Elrond will not give me a second thought, Frodo.’

‘That is because you will always be his first thought.’ Frodo felt the hard stare Gandalf gave him. He smiled, ‘have it your way Gandalf. You do not love Elrond and he does not love you. He will not think about you once and you will have forgotten him by tonight.’

‘Frodo, have you been talking to Aragorn? He is a terrible gossip you know.’

‘Strider? Why no! But as you know, we Hobbits have as good hearing as Elves and the winds around Rivendell seemed to ring with names every night.’

‘Every night?’

‘Oh yes, every night; several times a night and sometimes, all night.’

They were high above the valley now; the Bruinen sparkled below them in the pale autumn sunlight.

Gandalf cleared his throat. ‘And what names did these winds carry?’ he asked as conversationally as he could.

‘Elrond. Which of course they would, as it is Lord Elrond’s home.’

‘Ah, yes, quite. Any other names?’

‘Olórin.’

The Fellowship walked on in silence for several more hours before stopping for a short rest and cold rations. Frodo came and sat next to Gandalf as they ate their Lembas and dried fruit.

‘So, just how many names do you have, Olórin?’

**********

 

The snows of winter lay thick upon the gardens and houses of Imladris. Elrond was awake early and already seated at his desk, working. He had spent another sleepless night, so he had wandered under the stars and moon. Imladris was still safe, but the threat from Saruman and Sauron grew daily. He knew it was only a matter of time before the enemy from Dol Guldur and the Misty Mountains attacked Imladris directly.

He was going through a report when he sent his thoughts out to seek his beloved Olórin. They spoke infrequently across their mind link since the Fellowship had departed Imladris with the Ring, aware at all times that the enemy may also hear. Usually an endearment or sometimes, a simple caress was all they used, but it was enough to remind each other of their love.

He stood abruptly, knocking over his chair. His mind was filled with darkness. Then a swirling fire engulfed him. He swung around, trying to still the images he could see in his mind, but they would not go away. He fell against his desk, sending reports, books, inks and pens tumbling to the floor as he spun around with the scene inside his mind. Sinking to his knees, he bowed his head.

_< <Elrond. Beloved._ >>The voice called.

_< <'Melandya-nin,'_ >>he called back.

But all was darkness.

He slumped to the floor, gasping for breath.

_< <'Olórin. Where are you?' >> _he called again. But a black silence engulfed his mind.

'Aiiiii. No!' he shouted out loud.

His mind was empty and cold.

'My Lord?'

He looked up into the face of his old friend, Glorfindel.

'Elrond? Are you unwell?' He reached down and laid his hands on Elrond's shoulders, he could feel the trembling.

'He is gone.'

Glorfindel held his oldest friend against him.

'Who has gone?'

'Mithrandír,' the reply was almost inaudible. 'Gone … gone into darkness.'

'How do you know this?'

'A vision. A vision that has come to pass,' and he wailed in his grief.

Lord Glorfindel held the Lord of Imladris and stroked his head to ease the trembling in his limbs. He was one of the few in Elrond's confidence who had always known of the true depth of feeling that existed between his Lord and the Grey Istar; how since the new centuries of the Third Age, they had loved each other. In the millennia since then, that love had grown into a passion, a passion that they had shared on that night before the Council. A passion that none in the household could now deny from the shouts that had emanated from the Lord's rooms at night.

But this, this loss could be devastating for Imladris. If the Lord fell into despondency and grief, how then would the realm defend its borders, defend the House? The daily threat of attack was ever present; orcs were growing bolder and skirmishes were developing into running battles. If Lord Elrond was unable to coordinate and inspire his people, what would happen?

'Elrond? Lord? Listen to me.'

Elrond made no sign that he heard.

'You cannot allow yourself the luxury of grief now. We are under threat from the orc pits of Moria and you need your wits now more than ever. I will not let you slip into the morass of grief. Námo will not claim you, not in this way.'

His words went unheeded. Elrond clutched at him, feeling his heart break and his mind fall into a dark abyss of sorrow. How could he carry on? How can he live when the very purpose of his living had been torn from him? He closed his eyes and slowed his breathing.

'Help me to my bed, my friend.'

'Ai, Elrond. Rest now that later you may find strength to continue.' Glorfindel stood, pulling his friend with him and helped him to his bed.

Elrond lay down and closed his eyes again.

'I will come to you later. Rest now.'

Elrond heard the soft footfalls grow fainter and the door close and there was silence in the room.

Rest? Yes, he wanted to rest. He wanted to rest forever.

He slowed his heartbeat.

His heart was broken. His heart was ripped from his breast. Another had been lost to him.

His breathing slowed. As a Healer he knew how these things worked; all he needed to do was to stop …

_< <'Olórin? Did I not counsel you to keep yourself safe? Did you not promise me to come back to me?'>>_

His eyes opened as he slowed his heart yet again.

He was drifting, floating on a dark cloud. He called his beloved's name.

_'_ Olórin. Mithrandír. Gandalf. Stormcrow. Grey Pilgrim'. But none headed his cry.

His breathing slowed.

His grey eyes were now growing opaque, dark and lifeless.

This was the only thing left.

He chose to follow his love.

To choose the time of his own death.

As a Maia, Olórin would be welcomed into the Halls of Waiting. Now he wanted nothing more than to follow his love so that they arrived at the Gates together.

He slowed his heartbeat.

Slowed his breathing.

Coldness spread through his body like a winter’s night.

 

******************************

 

Arwen had heard the shout and was running towards her father rooms. Lord Glorfindel walked towards her.

'Glorfindel, what is wrong?'

'Arwen.' He faltered. 'Arwen. Mithrandír has fallen. He is gone and your father's grief will be without limit.'

'No! No.' she cried. 'I will go to him, comfort him. He cannot let go now, too much rests with him. Come Glorfindel, hurry. We have to stop him.' She ran ahead.

Glorfindel followed, confused as to why Arwen was so concerned for her father. Elrond wanted to rest, a private time in which to grieve.

'Ada!'

He heard the scream and ran towards its source.

In the Lord's bedroom, he saw Arwen shaking the apparently lifeless body of her father.

'Ada, no. Ada? Do not go like this.'

Glorfindel was dumbstruck. Surely Elrond had not chosen his death? He looked at his friend. The skin was pale and damp, a pallid sheen upon it. He watched for the rise in the chest, waiting for the drawing of a breath. None came. He pushed Arwen aside.

'Elrond, no. This cannot be.' He shook the near lifeless form. 'Arwen, bring the ring to me.'

'But ...'

'ARWEN. THE RING, NOW!' There was no time to be spent on niceties.

For the last centuries, Elrond had not worn Vilya, keeping it instead in its own box. He thought that perhaps, somehow, the Dark Lord could feel his ring and so turn his eye closer and more frequently towards Imladris.

She fumbled with the clasp of the Mithril box on her father's desk. Opening it, she pulled out another smaller Mithril and gold casket.

'The key, Glorfindel. I need the key.'

He searched the pockets of Elrond's robes and drew forth a small key on a chain. She snatched it from him. The lock was stiff with little use, but finally it snapped open. Lying on a bed of deep red silk was Vilya, the Ring of Air.

'Bring it here swiftly child for he passes ever deeper into darkness.'

She gave him the Ring.

He set it upon Elrond's finger and clasped his other hand over it.

'You cannot use it here, Lord,' Arwen whispered. 'The enemy ...'

'The enemy is coming here whether we use the Ring or not. But I would use it even knowing it would awaken the enemy to its presence.'

He looked down at his friend and spoke to him.

'Elrond, my friend, harken to my voice. Here is that which was given to you by your King who you loved greatly. Feel its power.'

There was no movement, no response to show that Elrond still lived.

 

*****************************

  _TRANSLATIONS _

_Ada = Daddy_

_Adar = Father_

_Ai = Yes_

_Aiii! = An exclamation (Oh yes or great Scott! Or even, bloody hell!))_

_Herren Istari = Order of Wizards_

_Hannon le = Thank you_

_Mae govannen = Well Met – (a usual form of greeting)_

_Meldanya = my love_

_Meleth = Love (as an endearment)_

_Melme = Beloved_

_Nana = Mummy_

_Naneth = Mother_

_Peredhel (S) = Half-Elven_

_Perelda (Q) = Half-Elven_

_Perian =Hobbit_

_Periain (S) = Hobbits_

_Periandi (Q) = Hobbits_

_Sell-nin = My daughter_

_Suilad = Greetings_

_Telemnar Lestánore = Silver Flame of Doriath_

_~What Elrond said to Gandalf:-~_

_Mela en’ coiamin (Q) = Love of my life_

_Lissenen ar’ maska’lalaith tenna’ lye omentuva (Q) =_ _Sweet water and light laughter till next we meet_

_**********_

_(As always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project; The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company.)_


	10. Who Will Comfort Me?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the loss of Mithrandír, Elrond wants to fade, but Lord Glorfindel has other ideas; and a good job too.
> 
> ************************************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta-ed by the simply wonderful Beckymonster - ten chapters and she's still hanging on in there! My thanks, as ever. All other mistakes are mine.
> 
> *******************************************************

 

Chapter 10

Who Will Comfort Me?

Elrond drifted in darkness.

No warmth, no colour, no sound.

Only all-encompassing black.

He could feel the weight of his heart within his breast.

'Olórin? His voice sounded hollow.

Before him were the Doors of The Halls of Waiting but they were closed to him. He was alone. He pushed against the great wooden doors, but they refused to open. He was confused. Olórin should be here with him by now. He tried to focus on an image of his lover, but he saw nothing.

'Olórin?' he called again.

'Elrond?'

The voice was close.

'Elrond? Hear my words.'

'Melme?'

But he saw nothing.

'Feel the power of the Ring. Remember your King. Elrond, heed my words.'

'Olórin?' Less certain now came his voice. Then he was wrenched away from the Doors which made him cry out.

'Noo.'

And he fought to return to Námo.

'Elrond?' This time the voice was louder, sterner. 'The power of your Ring calls to you. As you loved your King, come back.'

'Ada, please don't do this.'

He did not understand why his daughter was with him. Why has Arwen followed him?

The light was blinding and he screamed.

'Ada. Oh ada, it's me, Arwen.'

'No!' he screamed again and sat upright.

'Ada, I'm here.'

As the life returned to his eyes and they began to focus again, he looked first at his daughter, then his friend.

'Why?' was all he could say before slumping back against the pillows.

Glorfindel gently removed the Ring from his finger and replaced it in the box. If any damage had been done, he would bear the responsibility. But he could not let his friend fall into the void of death. He was too important to end his days in such a way.

'Arwen? How came you to the Halls of Waiting?'

'No, ada. You are back. You were at the Doors, but Glorfindel brought you back.'

'You should not have, you should have left me.' He felt his daughter's tears on his cheek.

'Oh ada, ada,' she sobbed. 'You cannot die, not like that.'

He raised his hand to stroke her hair.

'I cannot bear the years ahead without him, Arwen.'

'I know, you loved him greatly. But if you passed into memory, what would we do?'

Elrond shivered. 'I am cold.'

Glorfindel helped her to move him under the bedcovers and Arwen lay down by him, adding her warmth to him. His eyes closed and his breathing, deep and regular assured her he was sleeping.

'Arwen?' Glorfindel whispered. 'Stay with him, watch over him until he wakes.'

'I will not sleep. I will watch over him.'

He left father and daughter lying together and knew that she would not allow the Lord of Imladris to slip back towards death again.

Elrond, Lord of Imladris slept all day and all the night. When he finally awoke, he looked at his daughter.

'Ada?' Her voice was soft, whisper quiet.

'Arwen? What are you doing here?'

'You don't remember?' She caressed his cheek.

He closed his eyes tightly and sighed heavily.

'Yes. I remember.' His face clouded. 'Why did you bring me back? He is gone.'

'You cannot go, ada. We could not let you fade. You are needed, I need you.'

'My heart is broken.'

'I know. But you cannot give up.' She rested her head on his shoulder and wept.

'Arwen. Sell-nin.' He stroked her hair. 'Shh, Little Butterfly. Weep no more. I am here, though I would wish to be with Námo. I am here and I love you.'

'I love you, ada,' she sniffed.

'Glorfindel used my Ring then?'

'Yes. He didn't know what else to do.'

'We are equal now. As I called him back from the Halls of Waiting, so he has done the same for me.'

She rose from the bed and poured a drink.

'Here. Drink this,' she handed him a small goblet of Miruvor. He drank it in one and handed the empty goblet back.

'I am better now. I will carry on. I am needed. But I now do so ... alone.'

'You will always have me and the twins, ada.'

'Will I?' He couldn't keep the bitterness from his voice.

She made no reply.

'Forgive me, Sell-nin. That was uncalled for. It would seem that we both have to follow our allotted path no matter what.' He sighed. 'I will bathe.' Slowly he rose from his bed and made his way to the bathing room.

He disrobed as if in a dream. His thoughts turned to that night he had spent with Olórin, here in this very room. He stepped down into the warm water and a sob escaped his throat.

'Olórin, Istar, melme,' he muttered. 'You promised.'

Alone in the large bath and in private, he allowed himself the luxury of tears.

**********

The days passed slowly. The snows still lay deep and white upon Imladris. Lord Elrond tried very hard to keep himself occupied. He organised; he read; he wrote; he talked and played the Battle Game with Glorfindel. He rode out with his warriors and the twins. He sat each evening in the Halls of Fire and listened without heart to the songs and stories. Each day, Bilbo would seek him out and sit with him. The Hobbit said nothing, merely patted his hands every so often. It was a simple act, but one that meant a great deal to him. Somehow, Bilbo understood his need for quiet; his desire for reflection. Then night would come. He dreaded the nights most. It was the night when he would send forth his thoughts and call to Olórin and each night was the same.

He would try to sleep, to reach the dreaming world. When sleep would not come, he would walk under the winter light of Ithil; sometimes through the falling snow and sometimes the swirling winter mists down through his gardens and to the Bruinen. If the sky was clear, he would sit then and stare at the moon and the stars, trying in the way of full Elves to still his mind and find a tranquillity that simply would not come. Then there were the times when he would stand at the river edge and shake a fist at the unkind world. Towards dawn, he would break a hole in the ice of the river and dip his hand into the frigid water. The feel of that liquid, the life blood of Imladris, would restore him, filling him with the energy to face another empty day.

On the first day that Anor lifted above the horizon and showed signs of staying to melt the snow, Galadriel spoke to his mind,

_< <'Elrond, ion-nin. You must come to Lorien. You are needed.'>>_

_' <<The Pass will be closed, Naneth.'>>_

_' <<It will be clear by the time you reach it. Hurry ion-nin.'_ >>Then she was gone.

A request from his mother-in- law was something he could not ignore. He called for Erestor and told him to have his horse saddled.

'Lady Galadriel has asked that I go to Lorien. I will take only a small escort as I need to travel swiftly.'

Erestor said nothing, but was pleased that a spark of life seemed to be back with his friend.

'I will attend to it, Elrond.'

The Elf Lord dressed for the road, warm leggings, shirt, thick tunic, his comfortable leather boots and his fur-lined travelling cloak. He packed clothes for his stay into saddlebags and was ready to leave within an hour. After his farewells to Arwen and his household, his escort followed him out of the courtyard and to the road that led up to the High Pass in the Misty Mountains.

As Galadriel had predicted, the Pass was open. The snows were melting and although the going was slow, they were through without mishap. The snow grew less over the days as they headed south until, when they reached the northern borders of Lothlorien, it had disappeared altogether.

He rode into the Golden Wood, aware he was watched by the Guardians who defended the borders, but none stopped him. He tried reaching Galadriel’s mind again, but it remained closed to him. Fearful that something terrible had happened to his wife's family, he spurred his horse on. He rode day and night stopping only to rest the horses and eat cold rations as he drew nearer to Caras Galadhon. It was dawn when he finally arrived in the heart of the city and the Great Mallorn that was home to his mother and father-in-law.

Dismounting, he gave his reins to one of his household and ran to the stairs that would lead to their talan. Halfway up, Galadriel met him.

'You made good time, ion-nin.'

'Naneth.' He kissed her cheek and she smiled at him.

'Follow me.'

He was puzzled. Galadriel was calm, serene, where then was the crisis that needed his urgent attention in Lorien? He followed her as she climbed yet another level and disappeared behind a large screen. He followed and found himself on a large, richly furnished talan, with a bed in the middle. Wind cloths stilled the breeze that constantly flowed through the high Mellryn.

'Stay, my son. I will send for you later.'

She kissed him again and smiled an enigmatic smile that puzzled him even more. He went to follow her out, but a movement behind him made him turn.

'I believe I know you,' a soft voice said.

Elrond looked at the figure before him, but the light that shone around it blinded him. He shielded his eyes.

'Since when did Saruman enjoy the hospitality of the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood?' he demanded.

'I have always been welcome here,' the figure laughed and the light around him faded.

The Elf Lord felt the blood drain from his face.

'No. It cannot be.' His voice cracked. He sat on the bed as his knees buckled.

'Is this all the welcome you have for me, Meldanya?'

Elrond closed his eyes. This was a dream. No. It was a nightmare and he would wake soon.

'I am no dream, beloved. Although I dare say I could be a nightmare for some.' Again, he laughed softly.

At last, the elf opened his eyes and stared at the figure now standing close to him. He was robed in white, his hair and beard, both white, both shorter and neater. But the twinkle of love in the eyes and the smile that played on the lips convinced him.

'Olórin. Meleth-nin.'

'Yes, beloved. I am back.'

Swifter than a hawk the Elrond moved from the bed and into the arms of his lover, who held him and whose soft kisses fell upon his hair, and he wept. Mithrandír held him and rocked him and allowed him the tears.

'I saw you fall,' Elrond said at last.

'I know. My last thought was of you.'

Elrond looked at him through tear filled eyes and smiled for the first time since he had thought Mithrandír lost to him.

'If it is really you, how much do I love you?'

'More than the stars in the sky.'

'And for how long?'

'Forever.'

'Mir-nin.'

They found each other's lips and kissed. Soft exploring kisses at first, then harder, more urgent ones, sucking and probing until each was breathless.

The Istar pulled away. 'Undress for me, beautiful one.' His voice ragged with desire.

'Here? Is it private enough?'

The wizard's lips moved and he raised his staff.

'Now we are private,' he said with a wicked smile.

Elrond removed his heavy cloak.

'Ah! How well you suit close fitting garments. I approve. Here, let me help.'

He moved towards the Elf, dropping his staff to the floor and quickly divested him of his tunic and shirt.

'Valar, you are beautiful,' he said, touching the soft skin of his lover's chest. 'I had forgotten.' His thumb brushed a nipple, bringing a gasp from the other.

'Let me undress you, Istar. My need for you is most urgent.'

'I remember you as being very hasty,' and he laughed. Together they removed the wizard's clothes, allowing them to fall to the floor.

Elrond pulled him roughly to himself, kissed him and then pushed him onto the bed. They fell together and began the exploration of their bodies, first with hands then with tongues.

_< <'My passion for you is on the verge of spilling out, Meldanya-nin,'_ >>the Elf groaned as skilful hands stroked his engorged shaft.

_'_ Then let it, my love, for my own climax must erupt soon.'

They entwined legs; their straining cocks pressed together, hips thrusting into each other with a harsh urgency.

_< <'_ _Elrond, my love, my beautiful Elf_.' >>

_< <'_ _Olórin, my desire and my love._ '>>

Elrond felt the wizard’s hot seed splash onto his belly. He heard the gasp that issued from his lover's lips as the Istar's climax went on endlessly. He then thrust himself once more and his own crisis broke. This time, not only did the fire spiral through his mind and body, but the music filled him; body, bone, muscle and organs each flooded with the glorious song of creation that wove its magic, even down into the very fabric of his being.

'I love you,' he screamed, not caring who heard.

Then he slumped, panting, against the firm body of the wizard. His mind was blank; when he re-awakened and surfaced, an immense calm flooded him. As he focused his eyes, he looked into the face of his lover. The eyes were deep beyond comprehension; deep pools of knowledge and of love.

_< ’Olórin?'>>_

_< <'Yes, beautiful one?'>>_

_< <'What happened?'>>_

The Mallorn rang with the Istar's laugh,

'You spent yourself on my belly and you screamed your love for me - which was surely heard in Osgiliath.'

Elrond leaned back on the bed and sighed.

'The music, I mean the music, Istar,' and he laughed.

'Hmm. It is complete. What you heard is the complete song of my creation. Good isn't it?'

'Painful, more like.'

'I knew it. You do prefer Saruman to me. You did not scream your love for me when I was merely Grey.'

'Meleth-nin,' Elrond said in a hurt voice.

It was only when the Istar leaned down and kissed him, did he see the grin.

'Don't tease me, melme. I thought I had lost you forever.' His voice broke and tears welled in his eyes again and flowed down his cheeks.

The wizard pulled him gently into his body and engulfed him in an embrace.

'I am sorry, Elrond,' was all he said.

'I wanted to follow you,' the Elf said against the warm body of his love.

'But you didn't.'

Elrond was silent.

‘Oh no! Meldanya. You didn't?'

'I tried. Glorfindel used my Ring to bring me back.' He shuddered at the memory.

'Elrond, my treasure. You would have given your life to be with me?'

'Yes.'

The elf's face was covered with kisses.

'You are part of me, Olórin. Without you, I am not complete,' he said as the wizard's lips found his and plundered them.

_< <'Love me, Elrond. I need to remember the feel of you inside me, filling me, loving me. Then I will be healed.'>>_

Elrond nodded and taking his lover's head in his hands, kissed him long and deep. Then, he moved down the neck and on to the strong body, letting his tongue and lips weave their magic.

Mithrandír sighed with pleasure. Their lovemaking was urgent and passionate, the wizard wanting and needing to be filled quickly by his lover. When their joint climaxes broke, it went on without end and in their minds they both heard the music of the Ainur and the formation of their names, co-joined into the weaving melody.

Utterly spent, they clung to each other, gasping for breath. When he was soft, the Elf Lord slipped gently from his beloved and drew him close.

'I must admit, I think I prefer White to Grey,' Elrond laughed as he spoke.

Mithrandír swatted him. 'So you do prefer Saruman!'

'Meleth-nin?'

'Yes, Elrond love?'

'Are you healed?'

The wizard opened his eyes and stared at him.

'Completely beautiful one, for are you not the greatest healer in all of Arda?' He stroked the elf's face with his gentle fingers.

'Are you able to tell me what happened?' Elrond asked. 'I was at the Doors of Namo’s Hall, but you were not.'

The wizard was silent for many minutes and then he sighed.

Softly he told Elrond of his battle with a Balrog of Morgoth. How he had fallen from the bridge at Khazad-dum and had fought and smote at the foul creature all the while plunging into the bowels of Zirakzigil.

He told of the fall into the bottomless lake that filled the chasm; of the chase through the dark and hidden places of Moria until they reached the very pinnacle of Zirakzigil. He told of the last battle that he finally won by calling on the Ainur to aid him. They gave him the strength for one last, great onslaught against the spawn of Morgoth. He threw his enemy down from the peak and in doing so, brought down half the mountainside.

He knew he died in that moment. When he dared open his eyes, he was not in the Halls of Waiting, but in Valinor. There, Lord Manwë Sulimo made him whole again and he was sent back as White Istar to finish the appointed task that he had started two millennia ago. He was sent to Lothlorien, to the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood to complete his healing and regain his strength, for he had been sorely challenged by the Balrog and had used all his remaining strength upon the peak.

'Then, all I needed was you, beloved. You would complete my healing and you have.'

They kissed and with entwined bodies, fell asleep. Elrond slept for the first time in many months and his dreams were filled with music and light.

It was dark when they awoke together.

'Meldanya-nin.'

'Melme.'

The wizard stretched and yawned, Elrond smiled at him.

'I'm hungry, Istar. What say you to food?'

'Hmm. Food would be good.' But his eyes were devouring the body before him.

'It would seem that Manwë has remade you with an insatiable appetite,' he laughed.

'Only for you, music of my heart.'

Elrond pressed his forehead to that of his love.

'Manwë has also coated your tongue with honey,' he said.

'My wish would be to have my tongue coated with other sweet juices, elf.'

Elrond roared with laughter.

'A plague on wizards and their appetites.'

'And a plague on Elf Lords with their soft dark hair, strong bodies and delightful attributes who would keep me abed.' He touched the face before him. 'But now, we must rise and meet with the Lord and Lady. Plans have to be made and we have our destinies to fulfil.' He sighed heavily. 'The tide will turn, Elrond, but not before more kindred blood has been spilt.'

The elf drew him close. 'Will the tide turn? Will the Fellowship hold?'

'The Fellowship is already broken. We will be pressed on many sides before the end. Even now, Saruman is plotting his next move and the Dark Lord is drawing all evil to him in Mordor. But the tide will turn.' He slipped from the bed, pulling the Elf Lord with him. 'However, we have two things that are unexpected and therefore, a surprise to both twins of evil.'

'You still speak in riddles that much has not changed. What are the two things?' Elrond traced a line along the Istar's jaw, down his shoulder and then to his fingers where he entwined them in his.

'Frodo and myself,' the wizard grinned.

They went together to the small adjoining talan where deep basins were filled with water. They washed each other, a process of slow strokes, much laughter and frequent kisses. They dressed, Elrond in his travel clothes and the wizard in his white robes. He then combed and twisted the elf's hair back into the neat, intricate warrior’s plaits. The elf returned the favour although he did not plait the wizard's hair. They stood before each other.

'You are the most elegantly beautiful being I know,' the Istar leaned his head against the elf's.

'And you are more beautiful White than Grey.'

'You were prepared to die so you could be with me?'

'Yes.'

'I love you, Elrond-nin.'

'I love you, Olórin-nin.'

'I have not heard that name for a while. It is the name Manwë calls me, but on your lips, it sounds even sweeter.'

They held each other tightly, forehead touching forehead, loath to separate.

A knock on the partition made them look across the room. Mithrandír moved his lips in silent command and raised his hand.

'Come in,' he called, but did not release his hold on his love. 'Suilad, Haldir. Have you come for us?'

Haldir bowed to both of them. 'Suilad, Lord Elrond, Mithrandír. The Lord and Lady await you.'

Releasing each other with a kiss, they followed Haldir along the walkway and up more stairs until they reached the Great Hall of the Golden Wood where Celeborn and Galadriel were waiting for them.

'Adar,' Elrond greeted his father-in-law with a hug.

'Welcome my son. Mithrandír, I hope you are feeling better this night.'

'Much better, my Lord. In fact, never better thanks to the healing skills of Lord Elrond.'

'So we heard,' Galadriel replied.

Both Lord and Lady laughed as Elrond blushed.

'But now, by my Lady's leave,' the wizard continued. 'I suggest we plan.'

They spent the next hours planning their strategies for the defence of the Golden Wood, Imladris and the Great Greenwood. Dol Guldur was spewing out orcs to harass and attack the lands between Lorien and the Greenwood and the Moria orcs were moving ever closer to Imladris. Thranduil had declared open war on Dol Guldur and was attacking orcs wherever he could find them, even taking the fight to the hill itself.

'I must go to Fangorn and meet those of the Fellowship who enter there,' Mithrandír said.

Elrond looked sharply at him.

'As I mentioned before, the Fellowship is broken. The Ringbearer and his faithful Sam are going to Mordor and they will meet Gollum. Boromir, son of Gondor, succumbed at last to the Ring, but redeemed himself in the end and died a warrior's death. Meriadoc and Peregrin have been captured by Saruman's Uruks and are being taken to Orthanc. Estel, Legolas and Gimli pursue them across the plains of Rohan and I ... I must be in Fangorn when they arrive.'

'Mithrandír ...' Elrond started.

'Nay, melme. I know what you will say. But this is my task. The War against Men and Elves starts anew and this time there will be no Last Alliance. Men and Elves will fight this war separately to whatever end it may bring. Elves will be fighting for their lives, just as Men must do. And I must aid Men in this battle.'

There was silence between them.

It was Galadriel who spoke first.

'We have our plans and we have our destinies. We Elves will fight to defend our realms one last time before we depart Arda. Men will fight for their very existence. The returning to us of Mithrandír tells us that the Valar have not forsaken their children.'

'Our parley is finished this night,' Celeborn said. 'With the new dawn we commence our parts in this War.'

Elrond watched as his mother and father–in-law warmly embraced his lover. Galadriel's light poured over Mithrandír and his beloved smiled as he looked into the Lady's eyes.

'Adar. Naneth.' He embraced them both before hand in hand, the Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood left.

 

***************************************

_ TRANSLATIONS _

_Ada = Daddy_

_Adar = Father_

_Herren Istari = Order of Wizards_

_Hannon le = Thank you_

_Mae govannen = Well Met – (a usual form of greeting)_

_Meleth = Love (as an endearment)_

_Melme = Beloved_

_Nana = Mummy_

_Naneth = Mother_

_Peredhel (S) = Half-Elven_

_Perelda (Q) = Half-Elven_

_Perian =Hobbit_

_Periain (S) = Hobbits_

_Periandi (Q) = Hobbits_

_Sell-nin = My daughter_

_Suilad = Greetings_

_Telemnar Lestánore = Silver Flame of Doriath_

_(As always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project; The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company.)_

 


	11. Counting Stars and Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A night of star gazing for Mithrandír and Elrond before they must part and go their separate ways ... to battle. 
> 
> *************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not beta-ed - Beckymonster is on her hols, so all mistakes belong to me.
> 
> ************************************

 

Chapter 11

Counting Stars and Time

 

Following their lead, Mithrandír took the elf’s hand. 'Come, my love. Let us gather food and wine and then walk with me. This night is too glorious not to enjoy.'

They raided the kitchens of the Lord and Lady and with a basket filled with soft bread, cheese, fruit and a flagon of sweet wine and walked into the depths of Caras Galadhon. The night was warm and still, fireflies danced among the trees. Elrond snaked his arm around the wizard's waist as they walked, revelling in the nearness and still not believing that his lover had been returned to him. They walked into a glade and Mithrandír pulled him to a stop.

'Perfect,' the Istar said under his breath.

The glade had a soft moss carpet and the treetops did not obscure the stars that shone brightly in the sky. They sat on the forest floor, side by side holding hands admiring what was left of the night. Mithrandír passed a goblet to the Elf Lord and filled it with wine.

'To us. To victory. To the future,' the wizard said. They touched goblets and drank deeply.

'Meldanya?' Mithrandír said.

'Yes.'

'Tell me again how you came back from the Doors of Námo.'

'As I said before, they remained closed to me and Glorfindel used my Ring.'

The wizard sighed deeply.

'I did not go to the Halls of Waiting. I was taken straight to Valinor. Naked I was taken there and naked I wandered through endless dreams until Manwë took me and wove new life into me.'

Elrond’s head fell to his chest and he closed his eyes. He would have died needlessly. Even now he could have been in the Halls of Waiting without his beloved.

'I despaired, Mithrandír. I should not have.'

'But you were bought back, melme. For that, I am very, very grateful.'

He leaned towards the Elf and gently cupped his face before bringing their lips together. There was no lust in the kiss, only a deep love and understanding. Long did they hold each other, bodies pressed together and hearts beating in unison. When they parted, it was with a smile of knowing that they were more deeply connected and in love than ever.

They ate in silence, passing each other morsels of food or encouraging the other to try a delicacy. There was plenty of opportunity for hands to touch, to brush against bodies and to caress a cheek. When they had finished, they lay down, side by side and stared up at the canopy of Elbereth's beauty. Long sable hair mingled with white on the forest floor.

Elrond started to speak.

'Don't, melme,' Mithrandír said.

'Don't what?'

'Don't look up at the stars, point to the Mariner and say "that is my father."'

'As if I would.'

'You have said it every time we have looked at the stars for the last two millennia.'

'I have not,' Elrond protested, laughing.

They lay in silence again.

'Oh, go on then.' The Istar said after a comfortable amount of time.

'Really? You don't mind?'

The wizard laughed. ‘Of course not! I love the sound of your voice as you say it.'

The Elf Lord pointed to the night sky. 'Melme? Look. That is my father.'

'How interesting, elf,' Mithrandír chuckled deep in his throat and his hand sought out the other's and finding it, brought it to his lips.

'I need to tell you something, Elrond'

'Of course, Olórin, but please, no bad news for I am happy at this moment.’

‘Not bad news, but information all the same,’ Mithrandír said, ‘When Manwë sung me back into being, I was also given more of the Father’s plan.’

Elrond remained silent.

‘We three bearers of the untouched rings have been tested. We were all offered the Ring and the power it bestows upon its keeper. I say keeper instead of owner, for none is its owner, save he that wrought it for his own evil ends.’

Elrond turned to the Istar. ‘How so? How were we tested?’

‘Frodo offered the Ring to me when I first told him what it was. Freely he offered it to me, but I did not succumb; I refused it utterly though I was sorely tempted.’

‘And me? When was I tested?’

‘When I asked you to keep the Ring in Imladris. I now know I was being manipulated by … something; perhaps the Ring, perhaps something or someone else. But I offered the Ring to you and you also refused it utterly.’

‘I didn’t want it, melme; it didn’t cross my mind to keep it.’

‘And that was Vilya protecting you; do you know it is the most powerful of the three?’

‘No, I didn’t know that.’

‘Hmm, it is and your refusal to keep the Ring made me angry; again it was the Ring working in me. If you had agreed, it would have been … suicide for you, Imladris and the Northern realms.’

They lay next to each other in silence, simply holding hands.

‘And Galadriel?’ Elrond asked at last.

‘Once again, Frodo offered it to her freely.’ Mithrandír fell silent once again.

‘But she refused it? Said Elrond.

‘Yes. But she told me she was very tempted. But she resisted and so sealed her fate. She will diminish, her realm would fade, yet she will remain Galadriel.’

The first pale streaks of dawn filled the sky above them. ‘She has one last task to fulfil and then …’ Mithrandír continued, ‘… and then all debts are settled. She will take ship and sail into the West and be welcomed.’

‘And of the end of this War? Were you given the ending?’

‘The ending? There are several. It all depends on the part each plays.’

‘It is unwritten then?’ Elrond turned onto his front and face the wizard.

‘It is written in its many forms … but Fate and Destiny have their part to play, as does courage, honour and friendship. But I will tell you this, my most beloved elf; we must take the Eye away from the south.’

‘So what are you not telling me, Istar?’ and he leaned in a kissed tip of his meleth’s nose.

‘Ah … you know me so well,’ he returned the kiss, stood up and pulled Elrond up with him.

'You must start to wear Vilya openly once again.'

'Why?'

'Because the Elven Ringbearers must now show themselves and what they wield to the enemy and …’

'… And to draw the Eye away from the other Ringbearer?'

Mithrandír nodded. 'The more fronts the enemy is fighting on, the greater is the chance that his Eye will not be looking so close to home.'

'And what of you?'

'I wield Narya freely with the blessing of the Valar. None can now withstand the power of the White, not even the Dark One.'

With arms wrapped around each other's waists, they walked back; Elrond carried the basket containing the remains of their supper.

'Even Saruman?' Elrond asked.

'Especially Saruman. I will ride from Fangorn to Edoras with Estel, Legolas and Gimli, to aid King Théoden of Rohan. Then, Saruman must be dealt with.’

'Which is why the Lady and I must now openly wear and use our Rings?'

'Yes. Dangerous, I know.'

'But we do it gladly, meleth-nin.'

As they approached the great Mallorn of the talan of the Lord and Lady, Elrond pulled the wizard to a halt. He put down the basket and pulled him close.

'I am happy, Olórin. I know you will be kept safe for me.'

He suddenly shivered and slumped against the wizard.

'What do you see, beloved?' The wizard asked.

'A great host of foul beings. Men. A great battle.' He shivered violently. 'And Estel.'

'What of him?'

'He leads at the head of an army. An army of ghosts.'

'Ah, melme.' Mithrandír stroked the dark head.

'And he is Elessar.' Elrond choked.

'Shh, love.'

'I will lose her. She will be his and I will lose her.'

He shivered again and slumped against his lover.

'It was ever her choice, Elrond.'

The Elf nodded and lifted his head to look at the wizard, a soft smile played on his lips and his eyes were full of love.

'I tried to change her mind. I tried to set conditions upon her love for Estel. Now it seems that those conditions will be met in full.'

'This is Estel's path, long have we known it, long have we hoped that he would fulfil his destiny and claim his heritage.' He took his lover's hand. 'Come, now we will bathe and have breakfast. I must leave you then, though it grieves my heart to do so.'

They made their way up to the wizard's talan where they undressed each other.

'White suits you,' Elrond said.

'And these travelling clothes suit you exceedingly well, especially the tightness of the leggings. They reveal so much more than your formal attire.' He let his hand glide down and brush against the elf's cock and was rewarded by feeling it spring to life.

'Now who is seducing whom?' Elrond whispered.

'I thought we could seduce each other, melme.' He smiled knowingly at his lover.

Elrond pulled Mithrandír to him and he started to unbutton the white tunic, taking his time to release each tiny button from its closure. His hands trembled as the tunic fell open and he reached a finger inside to trace a circle around a nipple. He slipped the tunic from the wizard's body and rested his head in the crook of his neck, drinking in his lover's aroma. He let his lips peck at the sensitive flesh around the neck and heard the wizard catch his breath.

Mithrandír was submerging himself in the feeling of pleasure that rippled through his body. Gently pushing the Elf away, he let his hand fall to undo the laces of the leather jerkin. He pulled it off and laid it with his tunic. He unbuttoned the white shirt and that followed, joining the pile. Gripping the Elf's waist, he pulled him against his chest. They stroked arms and backs, allowing sensitive fingers to feel strong muscle and naked flesh.

Elrond dropped his mouth to the Istar's shoulder and slowly, drew his slick tongue down his arm and to his fingers, where he slowly suckled each digit in turn.

_< <'I thought never again would I enjoy your love.'>>_

_< <'Ah, my beautiful elfling, that would have torn at my very soul._'>> He shivered with delight as the elf's tongue expertly licked a nipple into hardness.

Boots were kicked off, then hands fell to the ties that held trews and leggings in place. With the laces undone, it wasn't long before those garments had joined the pile of discarded clothing on the forest floor. Now the Elf's tongue fell to the wizard's hard erection, he lapped at it, from base to engorged tip. He dipped his tongue into the drop of pearlescent liquid that leaked from the tip. He tasted his lover's essence and found it sweet.

They lingered over their lovemaking, bringing each other to the brink time and again, only to pull back so that the impending climax receded. They sucked, licked, bit and kissed every inch of each other's bodies and by the time the wizard penetrated his lover, they were both at the very boundary of ecstasy.

_'_ Meleth-nin,' Elrond gasped as the wizard thrust himself to the hilt within the Elf.

_'_ Together forever, melme.'

_< <'Yes.'>>_

Mithrandír watched his beloved's face contort in the throes of his climax. He felt the tightening of the muscles that held him within the elf and he thrust once more. His own climax broke, sending his seed deep into his lover. The wave of pleasure and music washed through them both and he fell onto Elrond, spent and was wrapped in the elf's arms.

Neither could speak, but each was aware of the melody they heard in each other's mind. Mithrandir could smell the muskiness of his lover's seed on his belly.

Elrond lay still. His eyes blank, his mind flooded with music. This time it wasn't painful, just very beautiful. He thought he heard Olórin and Elrond sung within the melody. Gradually he bought his eyes back into focus and saw the wizard resting on his elbows, smiling at him.

'Are you back?' Mithrandír laughed and kissed the swollen lips.

'Ai! Will it be like this from now on?'

'Would you mind?'

'I could get used to it. Melme? You are still inside me.'

'I know. Do you wish me to remove myself?'

'No.'

'Good.'

They lay joined together under the spreading canopy of the great Mallorn as the light of dawn became full sunrise.

'Olorin? We should prepare for the coming day.'

The wizard sighed and slipped out of the sanctuary that was his lover.

'Yes, I know. We should clean ourselves.'

'Yes, I know.'

Neither moved.

'Know this Elrond Peredhel. My love for you grows stronger each day. I will not leave you again and whatever befalls us once we leave these shores, my heart will always belong to you.'

'And I pledge my love to you, Olórin. I will keep your heart safe, just as I know you keep mine. I will never leave you and by Elbereth's light, I give myself to you, now and forever, hervenn.'

'Husband? My heart sings that you call me thus. But I have nought to give you as a token of our joining.'

'Then I shall wait until we can exchange rings.'

Elrond stood and pulled the wizard with him and they went into the adjoining bathing room. As the deep wooden tub filled with warm water, they spoke softly of their love, of past years and of those years yet to come. They bathe then, washed each other, dried each other and dressed. Fresh garments had been laid out for the Elf Lord from his saddlebags; the Istar dressed in his white robes. Those robes seemed as fresh as the first time Elrond had seen them. They ate a light breakfast that had been left for them while they bathed and when they were finished, walked together to the Lord and Lady to make their farewells. Celeborn and Galadriel were awaiting them in the Great Hall.

'This will be the last time we four meet together before the ending, Mithrandír,' Celeborn said. 'Ever have you been our loyal friend, now you go into the unknown, for even my Lady's mirror is unclear as to some of the events that will unfold in the coming months. As friend and Ringbearer, I gift to you this scabbard.'

As he spoke, Celeborn held out a leather and Mithril scabbard, finely wrought and crafted. It seemed plain, but engraved upon it were Elven words of power.

'You are the wielder of Glamdring, and such a blade needs a scabbard of equal lineage. The one that currently holds Turgon’s blade is not the one originally made for Glamdring but of later manufacture. This scabbard once held _Telemnar á Lestánoré_ , the Silver Flame of Doriath. It is an heirloom of my family and one wrought by the craft-smiths of Doriath in the early years of the First Age. The blade was lost long ago as was Glamdring’s scabbard. It is fitting that the two that have lost their half are joined, to become one again. Wear this scabbard in the knowledge that any blade drawn from it will be ever keen and may not be broken.'

Mithrandír took the gift and slid Glamdring into the sheath. It fitted as if the scabbard had been made for the sword.

Celeborn then turned to Elrond.

'Ion-nin. We go to battle one final time. I know of what came to pass when Mithrandír fell into darkness. So I say to you, son of my heart, despair not. You have the love of Mithrandír; you also have the love of the Lady and myself. I speak now of our daughter. You loved her and cared for her in her hour of need. No blame do we lend to you in your dealings with her. All I ask of you is, that should you sail for Valinor and you meet her again, deal with her gently. Add not to her pain, you and she shared a deep love once.'

Elrond clasped his father-in-law's arm and held it. 'You have my word, adar.'

Then Galadriel spoke.

'Now we must part. The road is long and treacherous. But an end will be made and we will meet again in happier times. Farewell Mithrandír my friend, your task is drawing to its climax, great battles will be fought and you will be in the vanguard of each. Trust to yourself as we draw the Eye away from the Ringbearer. I have no gift for you save my blessing.' She cupped the wizards face and kissed him lightly on each cheek.

Elrond smiled as the wizard blushed.

'And to you my son,' she continued, turning to the Elf Lord. 'I gave my greatest gift to you long ago. The love you shared and the children you fathered with her are still our greatest joy.' She drew close to him and cupped his face also. 'Arwen has Hope and Estel will be hers until the ending of his years. She chooses freely; do not make her suffer further. Send her to me and I will keep her safe until the appointed time. Your sons and household will fight by your side and songs will be made of the bravery and valour of the House of Elrond. May the Grace of the Valar protect you, ion-nin.' She kissed his brow, then, turning to her husband, she took his hand and they walked back into the rooms deep within the great Mallorn.

Elf Lord and Istar bowed deeply as they left.

Mithrandír turned to leave, but Elrond held his arm.

'I have something for you. It was in my saddlebags, I found it when I dressed earlier. I have carried it with me since your departure from Imladris those long months ago. It was for when we met again.'

The wizard looked intently at the Elf.

'Come close, love.'

Mithrandír moved closer and Elrond produced a clasp from the pocket of his jerkin. He pinned it on the wizard's cloak.

'I had the smiths work this from Mithril.'

Mithrandír looked at the clasp. It was finely made; two large Mallorn leaves intertwined with the runes M and E cunningly twisted into the design. It was a token beyond anything the wizard had been given before.

'I wear this for now, but one day, my love, I will gift to you something of equal worth.'

'You have already gifted me something of greater worth, meldanya.'

The wizard cupped the Elf's face in his hand, looking deep into the grey eyes.

'What is that, my heart?'

'You are returned to me and are in my arms. There can be no greater gift.'

They stood together, eyes locked in love. No words were spoken by their lips; only the words of love that lingered and caressed in their minds.

 

***************

 

_Gwaeron (March) SR 3019_

The orc armies finally reached the borders of Imladris and attacked the very outskirts of the Last Homely House. Elrond, his sons, household and kindred, armed themselves and sallied forth. Day after day they fought. Elrond wore Vilya openly, which had the effect of seemingly angering the Dark Lord, as the numbers and frequency of attacks increased. Wave upon wave of Sauron's spawn poured out of the pits Moria, orcs, Uruks, goblins and trolls; wargs and other fell beasts as well as Dunlendings and each new wave was met by the Elves, some seasoned warriors of the Great Wars, others born in the Third Age but equally determined to wage the War against the Darkness. The losses were great upon both sides. Elrond and his kindred fought without rest or respite, but the Elf Lord fought now with a purpose. For engaging the enemy in the west was taking the Eye and Mordor’s strength away from the south.

Elrond was also happy. Since his return from Lothlorien, he had met each day with renewed love for Mithrandír. Knowing that his lover was alive kept his mind focused on slaying orcs. For sooner or later, there would be an end to this War and they would be together.

In Greenwood the Great, Thranduil was beset not only by orcs and other fell creatures from Dol Guldur and the forest, but also the spiders of Mirkwood. Those poisonous offspring of Ungoliant attacked the very heart of his kingdom. His archers used countless thousands of arrows in defence of their Greenwood home.

The Northern and Eastern borders of Lothlorien were also besieged by Dol Guldur; in the West by orcs and trolls from the Misty Mountains and from the south by Wildmen and Vandals from the far reaches of Rohan. Deep into the Golden Wood roamed the enemy, hewing and despoiling as they went. The Guardians gave no quarter and tracked every one of the enemy and killed them. None ever returned whence they came.

Helm's Deep was attacked by many thousands of Saruman's army. Isengard had emptied its pits and now they stood before the gates of Helm Hammerhand's last refuge. Long was the battle and deadly. The Men of Rohan rallied time and again, even when the sorcery of Isengard was hurled at them and the walls of the Hornburg breached. As the Deepening Tower fell to the enemy, King Théoden called the Rohirrim to him and they obeyed. In the first light of a new day, when all seemed lost, Estel, known as Aragorn, Legolas Greenleaf and Gimli, Elf-Friend, rode out with King Théoden and the remnants of the Eorlingas.

Out of the East, bathed in the light of the new morn, came Mithrandír riding Shadowfax; with him was Erkenbrand leading a host of Rohirrim. At that moment, the Horn of Helm blew loud and clear, echoing and re-echoing around the Deepening walls and was answered by the thousand horns of the Rohirrim. The enemy turned to meet the attack, but none could withstand the power of the onslaught, they dropped their weapons and fled. But they did not run far; for out on the plain appeared a forest where none has stood before. The enemy fled into the forest and were destroyed by the Huorns, wild, angry trees that hated all things, but they hated the foul-creatures of Saruman most of all. No bodies were ever found and few cared.

Once again, the Hornburg held fast, but at a terrible cost.

The White Wizard then rode with the host to Isengard to confront Saruman. They found that Treebeard and the Ents, with the help of two, somewhat taller Hobbits, had destroyed Saruman’s engines of war and had laid siege to the tower itself, keeping Saruman and Grimá Wormtongue prisoners within the smooth walls of the tower. The parley with Saruman was short; Mithrandír cast him out of the Order of Istari and from the Council of the Wise and then, he broke the traitor’s staff and banished master and servant from Orthanc, powerless, to wander where he will; he then locked the tower and kept the keys. The rout of Saruman and his army was complete.

Once Théoden had led his people back to Edoras and in the quiet times between the feasting in honour of the fallen, Mithrandír took the opportunity to mindspeak with Elrond to tell him of events in Rohan and the downfall of Saruman.

For his part, Elrond told how hard pressed Imladris was from the daily attacks; but then something quite wonderful happened. Ten days previously, a band of horsemen rode into Imladris; their leader introduced himself as Marek, grandson of Cole who was Captain of Arms to Lady Farenth of Holdenwine at the time of her death. He, his own sons and followers having heard about the attacks on Imladris had come to offer their swords and to honour the oath his forebears had made to help protect Imladris. They had sworn their allegiance to Imladris and its Lord before the statue of Lady Farenth. Since that day, more men and women at arms arrived, some from other Holdings, some from villages as far away as Lake Evendim. But all understood that unless they joined the fight against the evil of Mordor, they would be enslaved and in the thrall of Sauron forever. Then two days ago, a small company of Dúnedain had arrived to lend their fighting skills to Imladris. So it would seem that there was an Alliance between Men and Elves once more.

Mithrandír listened to all his meleth said and deemed it good.

_< < ‘Where do you go next, beloved?’>>_ asked Elrond.

_< < ‘To Gondor with a fool of a Took who thought he could use a Palantír.’>>_

_< < ‘Did any harm befall the Perian?>>_

_< < ‘Other than a pain in the head, none; which reaffirms my belief that Hobbits are made of very stern stuff.’>>_

_< < ‘And Estel?’>>_

There was silence for many heartbeats before Mithrandír replied.

_< < ‘Long has he denied his destiny. But he used the Palantír and has shown himself to the Dark Lord and he had the strength to do so. Mordor also knows that Narsil is re-forged.’>>_

_< < ‘And so Estel also takes the Eye away from Frodo and Sam. Olórin ….’>>_

_< < ‘I know what it is you are going to ask, melme … and the answer is yes. He will ride with Théoden to the muster at Dunharrow and from there …’>>_

Now it was Elrond’s turn to be silent. _< < ‘Olórin? When did he use the Palantír?’>>_

_< < ‘Two nights ago; why, beloved?’>>_

_< < ‘This morning, Arnor did not rise or if it did, it remains hidden.’>>_

There was a deep sigh from Mithrandír _. << ‘And so it starts; we move towards the endgame, beloved. Keep yourself safe for me. I will not bespeak you again; for once I am in Minas Tirith … being so close to Mordor …’>>_

_< < ‘I understand. Olórin … ?’>>_

There came a kiss and a caress down their link; then the White Wizard was gone.

 

 

**********

_ TRANSLATIONS _

_Ada = Daddy_

_Adar = Father_

_Herren Istari = Order of Wizards_

_Hannon le = Thank you_

_Mae govannen = Well Met – (a usual form of greeting)_

_Meleth = Love (as an endearment)_

_Melme = Beloved_

_Nana = Mummy_

_Naneth = Mother_

_Peredhel (S) = Half-Elven_

_Perelda (Q) = Half-Elven_

_Perian =Hobbit_

_Periain (S) = Hobbits_

_Periandi (Q) = Hobbits_

_Sell-nin = My daughter_

_Suilad = Greetings_

_Telemnar Lestánore = Silver Flame of Doriath_

 

_(As always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project;_ _The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company)_


	12. Two Weddings?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The War of the Ring is won, Frodo and Sam have been honoured and Aragorn is crowned King. There is now only a wedding to attend. 
> 
> *********************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beckymonster is still on her hols - so this chapter is not beta-ed; that makes any mistakes all mine.
> 
> Just a reminder:- any speech in italics and between 'more than' and 'less than' marks denotes speaking mind to mind.
> 
> *********************************************

 

 

Chapter 12

Two Weddings?

 

It was the twenty-fifth day of the month known in the Common tongue as March of the year 3019 of the Third Age in Shire Reckoning. It was Ethuil, Spring; but Spring had not raised its head this year in Arda, nor had there been daylight for the last weeks, only a reeking darkness.

Elrond was fighting a running battle on the borders of Imladris, his sons fought at his side as did the members of his household. Black orc blood splashed on their golden armour and grim was the beautiful face of the Lord of Imladris. He hewed the head from the orc who was attacking his eldest son, then turned to drive his sword through the body of another. He thought how satisfying the crunch of bone and muscle against cold metal was. Bodies, both orc and Elven littered the area.

The Elves were gaining the upper hand over their attackers and those orcs that were left, now turned and fled. Leaning on his sword, his breath coming in short gasps, the Elf Lord looked to the East.

'The light comes back to Arda at last, my sons,' he cried. 'Look to the East.'

As the gathered kindred stood and stared at the growing, golden light, he sensed Mithrandír in his mind.

_< <'Ah, meleth-nin. Victory is ours. The Dark Lord is overthrown and the Ring destroyed. Estel has fulfilled his Destiny! I love you.'>>_

He was gone and Elrond could not reach his lover.

'Ai! On, on. Let us pursue the evil spawn to their lairs. A new dawn comes and with it a new age. The King has returned. Estel Elessar is King of Gondor.'

And with his sons, household and kindred at his side, he went in fresh pursuit of the enemy and when he came across them, he hewed and slashed ever more eagerly.

Three days later, Celeborn and Galadriel lead the Galadhrim across the Great River Anduin and lay siege to Dol Goldur. There, the Lady of the Golden Wood destroyed the fortress utterly, and with the destruction of that foul place, the last great battle in the War of the Ring was won.

The Golden Wood, Greenwood the Great and Imladris where secure once again. The losses of the Elves were without number. Long and bitter was the mourning for the fallen, making the leaving of Arda ever more certain for many of the Eldar.

 

**********

_Mid Year's Day_

Mithrandír sat in the large pavilion that had been assigned to him. Cormallen Field was awash with bright banners and flowers. The Ringbearer and his faithful companion had recovered from their ordeal and had been duly honoured. Estel had been crowned and now the gathered company awaited the arrival of Arwen Undomiél, betrothed of Aragorn Elessar, High King of Gondor.

He sighed. He hated the waiting.

In the past months he had been used to action, fighting and travelling great distances in his efforts to give aid to the world of Men. Now, the enforced waiting was beginning to annoy him. He knew that the Elves were drawing near, indeed, since the destruction of the Ring and Barad-dur he had spoken to his love many times. He knew that the Lothlorien party had met up with Elrond’s household and the Rohirrim and now the combined wedding party was drawing close.

Those contacts, longer now that the danger from Mordor was gone, covered much of the events since they had last been together in Lorien. How Estel had taken the Paths of the Dead and the Oathbreakers had made paid their debt to Elendil’s heir and had found their peace in the afterlife. How they had taken the battle to the Black Gate and though outnumbered, had fought Sauron’s army and taken his Eye away from Orodruin. He told the elf how in the end, Gollum had played his part and had perished along with the Ring in the molten fires inside the mountain; and that Frodo of the Nine Fingers (a tale for another night, beloved) and his faithful Sam were rescued by Gwaihir and his kin. The Ringbearer was recovering quickly from his ordeal. He told of the heroism of Eowyn and how she and Faramir, now Lord Steward of Gondor, had perhaps found love with each other.

Then, last night as he lay in bed, Elrond had come to him and once again, they had spoken long. Their need to feel one another and to share the act of love again was growing ever stronger. So, when the wizard had mentioned this to the Elf, Elrond sent a caress down their link. It was unexpected and had made him tremble with delight. He had returned that caress and soon they were becoming bolder with their touches and images. He saw in his mind his lover's lips take his now engorged member and suck its length. He could hear Elrond's voice in his mind whispering endearments. He thrust wildly and found his release. The Elf's soft laugh echoed through his mind and he joined in.

_< <'_ _Ah, thank you, melme. I wanted you.' >>_

_< <'I will be with you soon, meldanya. Then I swear we will never be parted again. Good night, beloved.'>>_

_< <'Sleep well, beautiful one.'>>_

And he slept deeper than he had for many months.

Mithrandír had dressed carefully this morning, the wedding party would arrive by the third hour after mid-day and he wanted to look his best for the Elf Lord. Another long, hot bath had removed the last of the grime accumulated over the past months; his beard and hair were washed and neat. He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair. He felt for all the world like a bridegroom. He smiled at that thought.

Then he heard it, the clear, bright clarion call of the Elven horns. Standing slowly, he brushed none existent dust from his robes and smoothed them. He patted a pocket in his tunic and felt the shape of the object nestled within.

He left the pavilion and stood under the awning, looking out across the Field. He could see the procession making is slow progress towards the camp. The singing became clearer and louder and the melodies from harps, pipes and tambours floated upon the air.

He saw the King walk to the centre of the camp, by the platform where the wedding would take place. The soldiers, princes and other dignitaries were also gathered. By his side, Elessar had the Hobbits, Legolas and Gimli, Elf-Friend, he gestured to the wizard to join them. He would rather had waited were he was, but he followed the King's command and moved to his side.

The bridal party drew closer, their banners, clearly visible now, floated on the breeze and the perfume of the Golden Wood was upon them. They came into the camp and the Istar gasped.

'Yes, Gandalf, is she not beautiful?' Elessar spoke softly to him.

But Mithrandír's eyes were not on the bride. Instead, they were drinking in the wondrous form of the bride's father.

Elrond sat upon _Naira_ , his favourite grey stallion that moved with the easy grace of all Elven horses. His mane and tail fell almost to the ground and was plaited and bound in ribbons and bells. The Elf Lord was clothed in blue and grey.

His tunic was blue with intricate designs traced in silver that caught the sun and was open at the throat. His loose fitting trousers were of the same material and colour and fell in soft ripples over his muscular legs. Over all, a long, grey sleeveless robe of gossamer lightness floated across the flanks of the horse and moved with each breath of the breeze. The Elf was barefooted.

The wizard's heart filled with love and his loins stirred as he beheld his lover. His long hair shone and was loose. Instead of the usual coronet, he wore a simple wreath of fresh flowers. Never had Elrond Peredhel looked so regal, so elemental … or so desirable.

The Elf looked directly at him and smiled, for the wedding party had reached the King. Galadriel and Celeborn were at its head, leading Arwen Undomiél on a white palfrey, followed by Elladan and Elrohir carrying the banners of the House of Elrond Peredhel.

Elessar was giving greetings to the Elves, but Mithrandír heard not the words. Instead, his senses were intent upon the face and figure of the Lord of Imladris. He noticed the soft smile that played upon sweet lips; the sparkle of love deep within the grey eyes; movements as fluid as a lover's caress. The thin material of the Elf's attire only outlined his form more, hiding nothing of the muscular body and inflaming the wizard's passion to another level.

Elessar finished his speech of welcome and Elrond jumped lightly down from his horse and went to his daughter. He helped her dismount and taking her hand, led her to her husband. He laid her hand upon that of the King.

'Here is she which is closest to my heart. I give her now into your keeping. For as I pledged long years ago, when you took the crown as rightful King of Gondor, then would I consent to this union and give her unto you as wife. This I know she desires greatly, so with my blessing, take her unto you. Love her, cherish her and protect her all the years of your life, Estel, Elessar Telcontar, King of the West.'

Those words he spoke in the Common tongue so that all may understand. Then he spoke in Sindarin to the King.

'To Aragorn, Son of Arathorn, whom I call son, I say this. I give to you the greatest jewel in all Elvendom. Arwen Undomiél, the Evenstar of her people. Long has she wanted this union and I would know that you are prepared to take her, forsaking all others, for her happiness is paramount in my mind. Do I have your pledge as Elfstone and Son of my House?'

Mithrandír watched with concern as his lover spoke those words. How was it that Elrond was still placing restrictions on the union? Was he unaware of the customs of the Royal Household? Would he deny the King the company of others during any pregnancy when Arwen would be closeted away from her husband? He sought his lovers mind, but gained no further understanding of the words, for Elrond's mind was shielded from him.

The King looked at his bride and then turned to face his adoptive father.

'You have my word, adar.'

'So it is done.'

Elrond turned to his daughter and continued. 'Arwen Undómiel, daughter of Elrond Peredhel and Celebrían of the Golden Wood, do you go willingly unto this union? Knowing that you must forsake the joy and comfort of your people and that from this time forth, you can never take the White Ship to the Undying Lands?'

Arwen looked long at her father. Then she turned to Elessar and placed her hand freely into his.

'I made my choice many years ago. You will ever have my love, ada, but I have always had Estel in my heart. I do freely and willingly consent to this union.'

Elrond nodded and the Mithrandír saw love and pain ghost swiftly across his beautiful face. 'Let the ceremony commence,' he called.

No-one moved.

Mithrandír stood in the thrall of his beloved's presence, his eyes never leaving the object of his growing desire. It was only the King's cough and sharp dig in the ribs that bought him out of his reverie.

'Yes?' he enquired of the King.

'You are officiating at the ceremony, are you not?' Elessar was barely containing his mirth.

'What? Am I? Ah yes, yes of course,' he cleared his throat. 'Let the bridal party move to the dais,' he called in his best commanding voice.

_< <'Do you desire me so much that you forget all else, melme?'>>_

He looked at the Elf, who was smiling broadly at him.

_< <'You have taken my breath away and undone me this day, Lord Elrond.' >> _And he was gifted with a soft caress from his lover.

_< <'I wanted to please you, Olórin-nin.'>>_

_< <'And you have surpassed yourself on that count, love.'>>_

They arrived at the wedding canopy; it was placed on a high dais, so that all gathered could witness the joining with unhindered view. The ceremony was simple and at its conclusion, the wizard took the King and Queen's hands and joined them for the Handfasting.

Elrond then placed his hand upon theirs, the wizard placed his upon Elrond's and lastly, Galadriel placed hers over all. So it was that the binding together of the Houses of Gondor and Elrond Peredhel was blessed by the three Rings that were not touched by Sauron.

A great cheer went up from the gathered company as the King and his new wife and Queen turned to greet their subjects. Then Elrond led the bridal party down from the dais towards the great pavilion that had been erected to house the most honoured guests for the wedding feast.

The King and Queen moved to the High table, followed by Elrond and Mithrandír. Then came Galadriel, Celeborn and the sons of Elrond. Two empty chairs by the wizard were filled by Frodo the Ringbearer and his companion, Samwise Gamgee. These two were led to their places by two other Hobbits, one in the garb of Rohan, the other in the livery of the White Tower. To the left of Elrond, Legolas Greenleaf and Gimli Elf-Friend were escorted.

The realms of Men were represented by King Eomer of Rohan; his sister, Eowyn the Shieldmaiden and Faramir, Lord Steward of Gondor. The remaining places were taken by the various ranking princes and dignitaries of Gondor and the Elven kindred. When the High table was seated, the other wedding guests took their places.

Elrond dared not look at his lover. Olórin had been giving him smouldering looks since his arrival. He had dressed with exquisite care that morning, wanting his beloved to desire him totally, to have his breath taken away. He had achieved this effect. Only now, he wanted to be alone with the Istar. They had plans for this day and night and beyond; plans that involved spending as much time in bed as possible. He knew that if he were to look at the wizard, he would jump up from his seat, rush to him and kiss him passionately.

This would in turn, lead to other more intimate acts, none of which were suitable for a wedding feast but very appropriate for the wedding night. He therefore concentrated on the food that had been placed before him. The feast was sumptuous, but he found himself picking at the many variety of dishes that were placed before him.

He was then called upon to toast the happy couple. He did not see who had called for this toast, but he thought it sounded like Frodo for the Ringbearer winked at him as he rose to speak. The words flowed from his lips with the ease of one used to public speaking. He kept it short and amusing and when he sat down it was to thunderous applause and table thumping from the wedding guests.

_< <'Ah, well spoken, my love. A wonderful speech.'>>_

The wizard spoke to him and he felt his mind caressed and a brief kiss to his lips. He sighed loudly. Luckily, Mithrandír was rising to speak even as he sighed, so it went unnoticed by those sitting next to him.

'Long has this day been in arriving,' the wizard spoke clearly in Common, his voice reaching even the furthest part of the great pavilion. 'Today, we celebrate the joining of two people and two Houses. We have toiled long to reach this day, none more so than Aragorn, son of Arathorn, Elessar, King of the West. He has his reward, as does Queen Arwen.'

He turned and fixed his gaze upon Elrond, who raised his eyes to meet those of his lover.

'To the Lord of Imladris, I say rejoice with me, mellon-nin. For this day, we witness the bonding of two hearts that will ever beat as one; two souls that will be bound to each other for eternity and two bodies that will entwine together to become one. This is indeed, a day to remember.’ He turned again to the wedding guests. ‘The King and Queen, Elessar and Arwen.' He raised his goblet in salute, as did all the guests. Then he saluted Elrond and smiled broadly.

The Elf Lord felt himself grow ever warmer under his thin garments. The stirring in his loins was intensifying and he silently cursed his lover for reducing him to a trembling elfling in public.

_< <'What was the meaning behind that little speech, mellon–nin?'_ >> He finally asked the wizard.

_< <'Ha! Now I have your attention. Good. You have toyed with me this day, elf. Never have I seen you as ravishing or delicious as now. And the toast? Have you not heard a bonding speech before, dear one? I have just pledged myself to you in front of all these gathered hundreds.'>>_

Elrond glanced at the wizard and saw the bright smile that graced his face. He also felt his ears burn as the blush threatened to descend across his entire face.

_< <'Meleth-nin, I beg you. Cease your sweet words lest my arousal overwhelm me,'_ >> he said.

_< <'You blush very regally, elf.'>>_

_< <'Ai! Olórin, I beg you.'>>_

'Are you well, ada?' Arwen leaned towards him.

'Quite well, Arwen. I am merely ... warm.'

Arwen looked at him, then leaned close to Estel and whispered to him. Estel looked at him, then the wizard. He smiled, whispered something back to Arwen and then kissed her. This bought a loud, ahh! from their guests.

Arwen leaned into him again. 'His Majesty gives you permission to leave at any time, ada. Only, he says you have to take Mithrandír with you and not to keep everyone awake all night.'

'Arwen!' he tried his best to sound shocked, but she only laughed and squeezed his hand.

He heard the chuckle in his mind and closed his eyes against its touch.

He saw the wizard start to rise from the table.

_< <'Come, belov ...'_ >> The words in his mind were cut short.

'Gandalf? Do you know Lord Glorfindel? He is a great Lord from the First Age and he also fought and slew a Balrog.'

He saw the wizard look upon the Ringbearer.

_< <'Snakes and vipers>>_... yes Frodo. I have met and indeed, have known Lord Glorfindel for two thousand years.'

'Oh really? But _now_ you have slain a Balrog as well. Would you not care to talk to him about it?'

Elrond watched in amusement as his lover looked to Lord Glorfindel, who met his gaze, smiled innocently and raised his goblet to the wizard.

_< <'Ah, love>> _... I am sure that two elderly beings discussing the salient points of Balrog slaying is of no interest to anyone, except perhaps, another Balrog.'

There was a general clamour of disagreement from the table, especially from the Hobbits and Gimli, Elf-Friend.

'Oh come on, Gandalf, we would love to hear your story again …,' Frodo said, he then turned to Lord Glorfindel and bowed his head. '… and to hear your story as well, Lord.'

'I agree with the Ringbearer,' the voice of the King added to the conversation.

Elrond was sure he heard a faint note of amusement in Estel's voice.

Knowing he was defeated, the wizard sat down. The appreciative rumble that went around the gathering was apparently lost on him.

_< <'Melme? Some help please?'>>_

_< <'Ah, my darling admirer. What can I do? The King has spoken.'>>_

Elrond's voice in his mind was as smooth and sweet as honey and he shivered in delight.

_< <'You are enjoying this, are you not, elf?'>>_

Elrond kissed him in his mind, sending his senses reeling.

_< <'_ _Oh yes beloved. But not as much as I will enjoy your body this night.' >>_

The wizard groaned as he felt the fierce flicker of heat in his loins.

'You go first, Gandalf,' Frodo was saying. 'Gandalf?'

'Yes, Frodo?' he managed to say.

'You can go first. Really Gandalf, you don't appear to be very enthusiastic about telling your story. It's not like there is anywhere else you have to be, is it?' the Hobbit accused.

He sighed. 'I am sorry Frodo ... my thoughts were ... elsewhere. Very well, I shall begin.'

The Hobbits, who never tire of stories, clapped in anticipation.

Mithrandír cleared his throat. 'The Fellowship was in Moria ...'

He recounted the tale in detail and, much to his surprise, he found he was enjoying himself. Guests turned to listen to him; there were appreciative oh's and ah's and much sage nodding of heads. He left out most of his experience in Valinor, saying only that the Valar decided he should return to Arda to continue his battle with the Dark Lord. He sat back at the end and drank deeply of his wine. The applause was thunderous and he turned his eyes to Elrond, who saluted him with his goblet.

'Oh that was very well told, Gandalf,' Frodo clapped him on the back. 'Now, Lord Glorfindel will recount his adventure.'

'Ah, Frodo, my tale is not as exciting as Mithrandír's, but ... I will do my best to match him.'

Again the Hobbits clapped in delight and helped themselves to more provisions, as listening to stories is hungry work.

'It was during the last days of Gondolin. Morgoth's evil was taking over the world, we fought him on every front, until finally, the battle came to the city.'

All those gathered sat in awed silence as the Elf Lord recounted his tale. For some, this story was well known, but for others, it was the first time they had heard any tale of those dark days of the First Age.

_< <'He tells this story well, love.'_ >> Elrond spoke to the wizard.

_< <'Better than mine, I suppose?'>>_

_< <'I did not say that. You are very touchy at the moment. I think you have need of some relief.'>>_

_< <'Elrond, if you continue in this vein, I will not be responsible for my actions. I will shock everyone present and this wedding feast will be remembered not for the food, the dancing or even the great beauty of the King and Queen. But for two ancient beings rolling around on the table, sending food and wine flying as they made passionate love.'>>_

_< <'Ai! Melme, I doubt I could stop you if you did something as rash as that.'>>_

_< <'Do not tempt me then, elfling.'>>_

_< <'Have I told you how wonderful you look today? It is you who are desirable, meleth-nin and it is taking all my will power not to jump on you and kiss you until your lips are swollen. And not just your lips.'>>_

_< <'Ahhh, beloved. Stop, I beg of you.'>>_

_< <'His Majesty has given me permission to leave at any time, taking you with me.'>>_

_< <'I can see that Elessar will be a very thoughtful King.'>>_

Lord Glorfindel had finished his tale and the applause was even more thunderous and prolonged than for the wizard.

'Was that not the greatest tale you have ever heard, Gandalf?' Frodo asked.

'One of the greatest, I agree, my dear Frodo, but not as great as your own tale. Why not tell us of your own adventures?'

'Yes, Ringbearer, I for one would be keen to hear first-hand of your bravery and exploits.' King Eomer called.

Various cheers and calls brought the colour to Frodo's cheeks in a sweet blush.

'Very well, I will give an account, but my part is small compared to that of Strider, I mean the King.' He stood and bowed in apology to Elessar.

'I will always be Strider to you, my dear Frodo and I beg you to remember that.'

_< <'_ _Very well handled, my love,' >>_Elrond laughed.

_< <'I thought so.'>>_

_< <'I am going to leave. As much as I want to hear the Perian's tale, I want you more.'>>_

_< <'I will follow, love.'>>_

*******************

 

 

_ TRANSLATIONS _

_Ada = Daddy_

_Adar = Father_

_Herren Istari = Order of Wizards_

_Hannon le = Thank you_

_Mae govannen = Well Met – (a usual form of greeting)_

_Meleth = Love (as an endearment)_

_Melme = Beloved_

_Nana = Mummy_

_Naneth = Mother_

_Naira = Heart of Flame (Elrond's horse)_

_Peredhel (S) = Half-Elven_

_Perelda (Q) = Half-Elven_

_Perian =Hobbit_

_Periain (S) = Hobbits_

_Periandi (Q) = Hobbits_

_Sell-nin = My daughter_

_Suilad = Greetings_

_Telemnar Lestánore = Silver Flame of Doriath_

_(As always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project;_ _The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company)_


	13. Moondance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vows made and rings exchanged - then ... a night of romance beneath a summer sky.
> 
> *************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mega thanks to Beckymonster for the beta - all remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> *********************************

Chapter 13

Moondance

_"Well it's a marvellous night for a Moondance_

_With the stars up above in your eyes._

_A fantabulous night to make romance_

_Neath the cover of summer skies."_   
  


_**********_

 

Elrond rose, bowed to the King and the rest of the company and walked slowly out of the pavilion. He did not look back, so he did not see the nudge that Arwen gave her husband or the knowing smile that the King gave her in return.

Once out of the pavilion, he realised that he had no idea where Mithrandír's quarters were, so he strolled around the camp towards the horses, seeming as if he wanted to check on _Naira,_ his horse. Torches were being lit as the last rays of Anor blazed red in the west. He ran his hands lovingly over the shoulders and flanks of the large grey; the horse snickered at the attention and reached his head around to nip at his Lord. Elrond laughed at his steed's presumption and wrapping his arms around the sleek neck, he whispered soft words of endearment to the stallion.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the wizard leave the pavilion and walk towards a large tent across the circle. With one last pat of the neck, he left _Naira_ and followed.

Mithrandír was standing in the middle of the pavilion when he entered. He let the flap fall closed behind him before moving towards his dearest love. He was hesitant, for now that the moment had arrived, he was at a loss as to proceed.

'Have you no warm kisses for me? Your heart has had a change of mind perhaps and you no longer wish to ravish me?' The wizard's smile was soft and careworn.

'I find myself suddenly shy, so long have I waited for this moment.' Elrond lowered his eyes.

The wizard laughed. 'So I have undone you today, beautiful elf? Come to me, my love. Let me hold you in my arms again, let us kiss and remember our love.'

Slowly, Elrond moved forward, as did Mithrandír; they met and stood inches away from each other. The elf lifted his hand and held the face of his lover.

'That you are safe again, I thank the Valar with all my heart for keeping you in their Grace.'

'Elrond?'

'Yes, Olórin?'

'Enough talk. Kiss me.'

With exquisite slowness they bought their lips together. Tender and soft at first, but soon all the passion they had been holding inside erupted to the surface and the kiss became a dance of tongues. They moaned in unison as their bodies clashed and melted into each other. The need for air forced them to release their lips and gasping, they looked at each other.

'I need you, melme,' Elrond said.

'I also have a great need for you, my love … but not now.'

Elrond looked sharply at the wizard and raised an eyebrow.

'Are you denying me your love?'

'No. I merely want to save it for later.'

Elrond pulled away from his lover.

'Why not now? I have been on the edge of release since I arrived and now you deny me the pleasure of loving you.' He knew he sounded like a young elfling denied a sweetmeat, but he didn't care. He wanted to make love to the wizard, now, not later.

'Peace, beloved. There is something we need to do and when it is done, I will make love to you and you to me for the rest of the night. You have my word.'

'What is this thing that keeps me away from your body? Speak quickly as my patience is wearing thin.'

The wizard sighed. 'I pledged myself to you earlier and now I want to make the same pledge by Elbereth's light.'

He waited while the words sank in and watched the reaction on the face of the Lord of Imladris.

The Elf's face lit up in a bright smile. 'Do you mean you wish us to be bond-mates? To take the vows of marriage?'

The wizard nodded. 'The next time we make love, I want it to be as husbands.'

There was silence between them for many minutes.

'I already call you husband,' Elrond said quietly.

'Yes. But I want the formality and the blessing of Elbereth.'

'But that is impossible, my love. I am still bound to Celebrían; nothing can break that bond except ... except the Valar.'

'Your bond with Celebrían holds.'

'Then, how?'

'Look outside Elrond, tell me if the first stars of night are in the sky.'

The Elf Lord did as he was bid and stood outside in the gathering dark. Above, in the clear southern sky, the stars were beginning to shine.

'The stars are appearing, Olórin and night is upon us.'

Elrond went back inside and watched as his lover removed the heavy white cloak.

'I noticed that you are not wearing the brooch I gifted you.'

'Ah, I am sorry Elrond, but I no longer have it.'

The wizard continued to disrobe, removing next the white tunic and replacing it with a lighter one. This tunic fitted him closely, the sleeves full and caught at the wrist with fine laces. It was still white, but there was an intricate pattern in silver woven into the fabric. 'Would you mind tying the laces, dear one?' He offered his arms to the Elf, who tied the laces.

'Did you lose it?'

'Not exactly, I just... no longer have it.'

He removed his boots so that he was barefoot, like his lover. His trousers he did not change since they were light enough and complemented the tunic perfectly. He picked up the discarded cloak, delved into an inside pocket and pulled something out. Elrond could not see what it was, as it was placed into a small pouch, that was in turn, tied to the belt that the wizard was now notching around his slender waist. The belt was also white with Mithril designs.

'There, I am ready. Shall we go?' He held out his hand to the elf.

'Go where? I think that a madness had taken you.'

'If this is madness my love, then I welcome it. Come.'

Taking the Elf's hand, he led him out of the tent and back to the wedding pavilion.

'I have no wish to re-join the wedding feast, Mithrandír,' Elrond’s voice held a hit of anger.

'Nor do I, love. I am just going to collect the others.'

'Others? This has gone far enough,' Elrond was now beyond unhappy. 'I will not spend the rest of the night in the company of others. If you do not want me, tell me and I will remove my person from you.'

'I do not intend spending the night with anyone else but you, Elrond. Now, peace. All will be revealed soon enough.'

Elrond sighed. 'You have gone mad. Just my luck to be in love with a mad Istar.'

But the wizard was not paying attention. He went up to the High table and spoke quietly to those seated there. Then he returned to his meleth.

'Come, beloved. Let us go into the forest and await our guests.'

'Oh I follow, Mithrandír. I would not miss this for the world. I have to see what madness you are arranging and how far it will carry you.'

The Istar laughed. 'Life is going to be very interesting with you, my husband.'

Elrond snaked his arm around the wizard's waist as they walked. 'Although a madness has taken you, I do love the way you say that.'

'Say what, melme?'

'My husband.'

'Yes, it does have a certain ring to it, I agree. Ah! Here we are.'

They had arrived in a clearing, the camp could still be seen, but the glade was private enough so as not to attract the attention of a casual passer-by.

'A tryst in the forest? Olórin, I compliment you.' The Elf pulled the Istar to him and held him close. It was only when the other coughed and nodded to the path they had just travelled did Elrond see the group that followed them. 'Why have they followed us?' He sighed. 'Are you now going to tell me what is going on, or do I have to wait yet longer?'

The party arrived, bowed to the lovers and formed a circle around them. Elrond stood in dazed confusion and watched as Mithrandír bowed in turn to the King and Queen; his mother and father in law; his sons; the Ringbearer and Samwise; Meriadoc and Peregrine; Legolas and Gimli, Elf-friend; Eomer and Eowyn of Rohan; Faramir, Lord Steward of Gondor and the Elf Lords, Glorfindel and Erestor. He raised an enquiring eyebrow at his lover.

The wizard moved away from him and spoke.

'Nost a mellyn; family and friends. Thank you for giving your time, especially Estel and Arwen. But this is possibly the last time all of us will be together in the same place. So I have asked you here to bear witness to the bonding between myself and Lord Elrond.'

There was a stunned silence from the guests.

'Mithrandír,' Celeborn's voice was low and cold. 'Elrond is still bonded to his wife. You cannot do this. However much you love him, you cannot go against the Valar and bind yourself to him while his wife still lives. You of all people should know this.'

Elrond stood transfixed even as his heart burst with love of the Istar. He had acted like a spoiled child when his beloved Olórin was leading him here. He had been deaf to all that his love had said and blind to all his actions. But from Celeborn's tone, it was clear that things would not proceed smoothly. He watched as the Istar turned to face the Lord of the Golden Wood.

'With the greatest respect, Lord Celeborn, I did not pass through Earth, Air, Fire, Water, Death and re-awakening to bandy words with my wedding guests.'

The Istar grew suddenly in stature and a pale glow surrounded him.

'Do you think that I would have come back to Arda without some guarantees? I have the blessings of Manwë and Elbereth to do this.'

As he spoke, he held aloft his hand and from Narya, the Ring of Fire, a red flame erupted that went straight up into the firmament and was met by a light from the heavens, a light that pierced the darkness and filled the small glade with its brilliance. The light dimmed and Mithrandír lowered his hand.

'The bond with Celebrían holds fast. She will not be denied her husband, nor will I.'

With those words he took his beloved's hands in his and drew him close.

'Do you consent to this, my love?'

'Will all my heart, beloved.'

'Then Elrond, son of Eärendil son of Tuor and Idril and Elwing daughter of Dior and Nimloth; Herald of the High King; bearer of Vilya, the Great Ring of Air; greatest of all Elf Lords yet living in Arda. To you I give my heart. To you I give my soul. To you I give my body. To beat as one, to live as one and to be as one. By the Grace of Elbereth Elentari I do this willingly.'

Elrond drew the Istar closer.

‘Olórin, Mithrandír, Gandalf the White, Tharkûn or Incánus; beloved of Nienna and blessed of Manwë Sulimo and Elbereth; bearer of the Great Ring Narya, the Ring of Fire; Ingolemo. To you I give my heart. To you I give my soul. To you I give my body. To beat as one, to live as one and to be as one. By the Grace of Elbereth Elentari I do this willingly.'

Mithrandír then opened the small pouch on his belt and drew out two rings; he held them in the palm of his hand.

'You asked before what had become of your gift. I now return it to you.' With that, he took one ring and placed it upon the forefinger of his meleth’s left hand. Elrond took the twin and did the same.

'Hervenn.'

'Hervenn.'

They joined hands and as they did so, Elbereth's light shone down on them in blessing.

'You are mine until the ending of all time, hervenn.' Elrond caressed the wizards face.

'I would not want it any other way, hervenn.'

They kissed then, a sweet lovers kiss, but one that spoke of things yet to come when they were alone.

They were then engulfed in embraces from their family and friends. Arwen, Eowyn and Galadriel were openly weeping, as were the Hobbits.

'If the Valar give their blessing on your union, then you have mine also,' Celeborn said as he embraced them both.

'I am overjoyed for you both, now we can all stop pretending we don’t know ' said the King as he embraced them both. 'Now, come wife, family and friends, there is still dancing and you, Frodo, have yet to finish your tale.' He waved the others down the path and with a last bow to the newlyweds, he grasped his wife's hand firmly and led her away.

They stood watching their guests depart and before disappearing, Arwen turned and waved to them. Then, they were alone in glade.

Neither moved nor spoke. They just looked at each other, smiling.

'Do you like your ring?' Mithrandír asked.

'The brooch was Mithril. How came you to find a smith who could unmake and remake, and with such a cunning design?'

The wizard laughed. 'I could not, for there are none in Minas Tirith who could have wrought the rings into the design I desired.'

'Who then?'

Mithrandír cocked his head to one side and smiled.

'Since when have you been a smith?'

'Since I wanted wedding bands. It was simple really. Do you see how I kept the runes M and E in the design? Clever of me, no? Of course I needed a couple of tries before I got it perfect and then Gimli had to help, but ...'

'Hervenn?'

'Hmm. Yes?'

'Enough talk. Kiss me.'

This time the kiss held nothing back. It was filled with the fiery passion of need and desire.

_< <'Are you going to tumble me on the forest floor?' >> _Elrond heard his husband's voice in his mind.

_< <'If that is your desire. But I doubt whether it is private enough, hervenn. I mean to make you shout my name when we make love.'>>_

They pulled out of the kiss and caressed each other.

Mithrandír moved his hand and spoke silent words.

'Ah, another cheap conjuring trick.'

'My tricks are neither cheap nor conjure. Of course if you want me to remove the spell so that all may hear your passion ...'

'Nay, my love. Leave the spell in place, my need for you is growing ever more urgent.'

The wizard's hand fell to the swelling between his husband’s legs and ran his fingers up and down its length.

'Yes, so I perceive.'

He pulled the Elf roughly to him and found his lips again. Those lips yielded to his tongue and soon both tongues were licking and probing each other's mouths. Mithrandír sucked on the already swollen bottom lip, bringing a gasp from the elf.

The Elf Lord dropped his hands to the belt at his husband's waist and swiftly removed it. Then without breaking contact with the other's mouth, he unfastened the buttons of his tunic. When one refused to open, he tore at it, not caring if the fine material ripped or not. He wanted to feel his husband's skin next to his own as quickly as possible. The kiss was driving him to the brink of release and the way the wizard's hips bucked and ground against his own was maddening. He felt his erection grow ever more hard, and the pulsing only added to his urgency.

_< <'If this tunic does not come off, I will spend now, melme.' >> _He was panting with need as the wizard broke away from the kiss.

_< <'Still hasty, beautiful one? Here, let me help.'>>_

Together they removed the offending garment, then the Elf followed suit and removed his own tunic.

'And these had better go as well,' Elrond said as he pulled the ties that held the trousers in place.

'As had yours, melme.'

Finally they stood naked before each other, bathed in the clear light from Ithil and millions of Elbereth's stars. The night was warm and the soft, southern breeze cooled their skin.

'Valar, but you take my breath away each time I see you thus,' the Istar stroked the Elf's chest then encircled his hip with his hand and pulled him close.

His mouth fell to the cleft of Elrond's neck, his other hand gently pulled the long hair back, allowing his mouth further access to that sensitive part of his husband’s neck. He licked and nibbled at the skin until the Elf groaned.

'Hervenn ....'

_'_ No words, Elrond. We use too many words, you and I. Let us for once allow our bodies, hands and mouth to speak for us.'

So Elrond let himself submerge in the sensations his love gave him. He closed his eyes as the warm mouth weaved its way down his chest to each nipple in turn. Each lick made him swell more. Then the tongue trailed down and circled his belly, dipping once into his navel. He bit his lips as it inched towards his engorged cock. He tangled his hands in the Istar's hair, his knees suddenly weak. But the tongue did not touch his throbbing cock, instead, curving down his thigh and to the soft skin of his groin.

The wizard licked and probed around the sacs, taut with need. Still he ignored the jutting cock and the Elf groaned deep with his throat. Now the tongue travelled around his hip and to his back. Strong hands stroked his spine. Elrond felt the fingers that traced the contours of his muscles and still the slick tongue lapped and delved. His legs finally gave way and he slid down to the soft, forest floor. Now the hands were on his buttocks, needing and stroking. He felt the hands part the round cheeks and then the hot wetness of the tongue, inflaming his senses further. His breath was coming in short gasps, every nerve in his body jangling and every fibre of his being crying out for release. Yet, he did not want this feeling to cease.

He wanted more, he wanted his husband, thrusting deep within him; to feel the strong, lithe body on top of him and to see the face of his love as he spent himself. A hand came round and grasped his erection, gently stroking. Knowing that he would climax soon, he pushed his considerable strength into the wizard and knelt upright, then turning quickly, he lay back on the forest floor and opened his arms. His husband smiled and lay on top of him, his weight resting on his elbows as he attacked Elrond's mouth again.

The Elf bought a leg up and rested it on the other's shoulder, opening himself to his husband. The wizard's hand found his cock again and his fingers dipped into the droplets of wetness that had formed on the tip. Then he placed those fingers against the tight opening. Elrond lifted his hips in encouragement and was rewarded by feeling the tip of the Istar's engorged cock push against him. He wanted this; he wanted this more than ever before. For now they were bonded, husbands, soul mates and this is how it would be forever. His husband thrust forward sharply and he was impaled upon the wizard's hard length. The face before him was serene and beautiful in its passion. The eyes that locked on his were filled with love.

He could feel his climax approaching as his own cock thrust into his husband's belly. They found the rhythm they sought and he felt a hand encircle his erection and with swift strokes, bring him to his release. He arched his back, thrusting his hips against his husband and felt the release of seed deep within him.

'ELROND, HERVENN.'

'OLÓRIN, HERVENN.'

They shouted in unison as they climaxed together.

On and on it went, even after they had both spent their seed, their climax continued as the song of Manwë Sulimo was joined by that of his spouse, Elbereth. As they collapsed together, groaning and panting, they knew that their union was truly blessed.

Long did they stay on the forest floor, locked together. If they slept, then neither was aware of it. The forest was quiet around them and the night enfolded them in its dark mantle.

Mithrandír opened his eyes and lifted his head to look at his husband. The eyes were closed, for the Elf slept still. Gently, he slipped out of him and lifted himself onto his elbows to gaze at the jewel of his heart. He brushed a long tendril of hair from the face and leaning down, kissed first the nose, then the lips of the Elf.

Their lovemaking had been wonderful, better than at any time before. Elrond had given himself completely and never had he been so aroused or arousing. Mithrandír smiled, if this is what eternity had in store for them, he would need all his strength just to keep his husband satisfied. The Elf Lord stirred, he opened his eyes and brought them into focus.

'Meleth-nin,' Mithrandir whispered. 'You were spectacular. Never have you inflamed my passion in such a way. You leave me weak and trembling.'

'Ai! Beloved. I was just about to say the same to you.'

They kissed and held each other close.

'Was that Elbereth's voice I heard?'

'Yes, Elrond. She has given us her blessing. We are truly bonded, you and I.'

Elrond pushed the wizard off him and sat up. Reaching behind him, he pulled a small rock out. He showed it to the other then let it fall.

'Hervenn, you could have found more comfortable accommodations for our wedding night.'

'Hervenn, I had that planned. But you had other ideas and demanded that I ravish you here. Besides, you did not complain once.'

'My mind was elsewhere,' the Elf laughed.

'Come, husband. Let me take you to bed. I fear you are too old to enjoy further lovemaking on the forest floor.'

The Istar pulled the Elf Lord to his feet and they dressed. The wizard's tunic was torn, but he wore it gladly. Mithrandír stooped down and picked up the floral coronet that had fallen from Elrond's hair during their lovemaking. Although rumpled and wilted, it was still fragrant and he replaced it upon his husband's head with a gentle smile. With arms around each other's waists, they walked slowly back to the camp. As they walked, the wizard moved his hand and released the spell on the glade.

As they had promised each other, they made love for the rest of the night and the first rays of dawn found them curled up together in a tangle of limbs and hair. Neither stirred as the camp came to life, so soundly did they sleep in the comfort of their love.

 

********************************

 

_ TRANSLATIONS _

_Ada = Daddy_

_Adar = Father_

_Herren Istari = Order of Wizards_

_Hannon le = Thank you_

_Hervenn = Husband_

_Mae govannen = Well Met – (a usual form of greeting)_

_Meleth = Love (as an endearment)_

_Melme = Beloved_

_Nana = Mummy_

_Naneth = Mother_

_Peredhel (S) = Half-Elven_

_Perelda (Q) = Half-Elven_

_Perian =Hobbit_

_Periain (S) = Hobbits_

_Periandi (Q) = Hobbits_

_Sell-nin = My daughter_

_Suilad = Greetings_

_Telemnar Lestánore = Silver Flame of Doriath_

_(As always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project; The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company)_


	14. Calling us Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The journey across the Sundering Sea and their arrival in Eldamar marks the start of a new life for all the Ringbearers.
> 
> ******************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter are all set in Eldamar and are therefore AU.
> 
> Beta by Beckymonster - who has my grateful thanks; all remaining mistakes are my own.
> 
> ****************************

 

Chapter 14

Calling Us Home

 

_“The thundering waves are calling me home to you,_

_The pounding sea is calling me home to you,_

_As we cast our gaze on the tumbling sea_

_A vision came o'er me._

_Of beating wings in clouds above.”_

  


The White Ship ploughed through the foaming water, the wind sending spray over the decks as the prow rose and fell. Elrond stood facing into the wind, his hair flying out behind him. His heavy cloak was damp with the spray, but he was revelling in the feel of wind and salt water upon his face. He steadied himself and turned to look back at his husband. Mithrandír was walking along the deck with Frodo. The young Perian still suffered greatly from his wound and an air of sadness was with him always. He enjoyed the company of the wizard and Elrond encouraged the Hobbit to talk to him as often as he needed.

The Enchanted Isles were close, maybe another two days the mariners said; Alqualondë was another two day’s sailing beyond. He thought of how he would be greeted by his wife. Indeed, it was weighing ever more heavily upon his mind. He sighed. He would have to tell her that their children had all decided to remain in Arda, the twins choosing their Elven heritage, so in time, perhaps taking the White Ship themselves. The hardest news to break would be of Arwen. She had chosen a mortal life and although it would be a longer life than of most Men, she would eventually, die.

Mithrandír had made him remove the condition of fidelity upon Estel. He had explained how Arwen would be separated from her husband during any pregnancy and confinement. Sexual activity between them would cease and if Estel upheld his pledge of fidelity, it would eventually drive a wedge between husband and wife. Better to let the King choose another bed mate than for him to lose his temper with the queen. They had argued back and forth for a whole day, until finally, it was Mithrandír who had folded his arms this time and stared him down. He had conceded.

It made sense of course, Elves were more open about such things and Arwen would no doubt encourage her husband to seek solace in the arms of another while she was pregnant and no doubt, she would vet, if not choose the bed companion for Estel. But … as a father, he didn't want his daughter and youngest child hurt by anyone, including her husband.

The final leaving-taking between father and daughter was anguished. He had openly wept as he told his daughter of the love he held for her. He had always hoped that it would be her that joined him and her mother in Eldamar. To lose her to eventual death was a bitter choice to make. But he respected her decision and knew that she loved Estel with all her heart. She would be a great queen and her children, his grandchildren, would rule the kingdom wisely for many generations. He had asked her if she had any message for her mother. She had shaken her head and said she only wished her mother peace. The peace she could not find in Arda. He told her that her brothers would care for her in his stead and that they would make good uncles.

They had then talked of the small things, of her childhood and Imladris. Of how she loved the waterfalls and gardens and would miss them. How she loved her brothers and that growing up with them was joyous. She spoke of the times her brothers would come back from their expeditions of killing orcs and they would be wounded and that he, their father, would shout at them not to be so reckless all while hugging them and telling them how brave they were.

She had wept and he had held her and stroked her hair as he had done when she was an elfling. He sang to her, a song of remembering and love. When he had finished, he had told her to keep the song in her heart; it was his song for her and when she sang it, it would remind her of her father's love. He had then led her back to Estel and laid her hand in his and as he did so, removed the condition of fidelity from the King.

He did not look back as he, Mithrandír and their company, made their way back to Imladris.

His husband's gentle hand slipped into his own bringing him back to the present.

'Come inside, love. The wind blows ever stronger and you are getting wet.'

He kissed the wizard's hand before allowing himself to be led down into their cabin.

He removed his cloak and set it to dry. Taking the hot tea offered by Mithrandír, he sat in a chair and stared out through the small windows at the rolling sea.

'Elrond, you are making yourself ill. I will not stand by while you sink further into despair. There is nothing to worry about. Celebrían will welcome us, I have told you this many times. She always liked me anyway. So please, melme … I need you.'

Elrond looked at the face before him, wise and gentle, the blue eyes filled with longing and desire. He loved the Istar more than life and he knew that he was making his husband miserable. They had not made love since boarding the ship, but Olórin had been patient and understanding. He had held him during the nights, whispering endearments and placing chaste kisses on his hair and brow. Their love was strong, but the wizard's needs were also strong, as were his own. He wanted to take him now, roll him on the bed and love him.

He leaned forward and took the wizard's hand.

'I apologise for my behaviour, melme. I have been lost in my own thoughts and cares, excluding you. That was not my intention.'

'Elrond, I know what troubles you and I say again, she will welcome us.'

'Is this another of your bargains with Lord Manwë, love?'

The wizard laughed. 'No, just my intuition. You know her and love her. Do you think she would reject you, me and happiness out of hand? Do you not think that she has also been lonely, more so than you?'

Elrond sat back and was silent. He had not considered the last possibility. It had not occurred to him that Celebrían would be lonely in Eldamar. The hurt she suffered at the hands of the orcs would not allow her to take a lover. She could not bear to be touched by another, even her own children. All his patience and care could not bring her to accept his loving touch again.

'As ever, you are right, beloved. She would have been lonely and now she has the chance to be with those who love her the best, including her mother. But she will not have her children. That will be difficult for her to accept.'

'We will help her, we will love her and we will care for her,'

Elrond rose from his chair and embraced his husband. 'I love you, Olórin. I am blessed to have you by my side and Celebían will love you in her turn.' He kissed the waiting lips and felt the wizard lean into it, but not forcing it deeper, allowing him to dictate the pressure and passion.

_< <'I will not break, love. You can kiss me as passionately as you like.'>>_

He felt his love's tongue probe his mouth and he joined with it, deepening the kiss and letting his hands wander over the wizard's body.

'I have a great need for you, meldanya' the wizard said as they broke from the kiss.

'And I for you, husband.'

Taking the Istar's hand, Elrond led him across the cabin and pushed him down on the bed. He then lay on top of him and ravished his mouth again. They had not been this close for many, many days and the urgency of their need for each other overtook them. There was no foreplay, no slow undressing and no lengthy kissing of each other's body, just the lust of two beings, deeply in love and needy.

Elrond took the lead and roughly opened the wizard's tunic, then dropped his hands to release the ties of his trousers. He lavished hot kisses on smooth flesh working his way quickly to the already engorged cock. The Istar moaned as the Elf's lips encircled the swollen plum before taking the full length of his member into his mouth. Elrond sucked gently at first, then harder, allowing his teeth to pluck at the sensitive flesh. The wizard caught his hair and pressed his head down onto him as he bucked his hips quickly towards his release. He groaned deep in his throat as Elrond worked a finger into his tight opening. Another followed, and as they found the small, hidden nub of delight, Mithrandír was tipped over the edge and spent himself into the Elf's throat. He gave a strangled sob and allowed his body to go limp on the soft mattress. He flung an arm over his face, gasping for breath. But his husband had not finished.

Elrond was fast approaching his own peak and he wanted to climax inside his husband. Turning the wizard on to his stomach, he pulled him onto his knees. He ripped the ties to his own trousers and releasing his throbbing erection, he placed himself against the wizard's tight opening. He rubbed the drops of moisture that were leaking from the tip over the puckered skin and without further preparation, thrust himself into Olórin to the hilt. The burning fire was spreading quickly through his body and it only took one more thrust before he spilled himself within his beloved. He slumped across the wizard's back, gasping in his turn. Gently, he slipped himself out of his husband and lay down next to him.

Mithrandír turned to face the elf. The eyes that met his were dark and sorrowful. A perfectly formed tear ran down his cheek, followed by another.

'Ah, my love. What is this? Why the tears?' He kissed the salty wetness away. Elrond clung to him, shaking.

'I apologise for my actions, melme. Did I hurt you?'

The wizard laughed. 'Not at all. In fact, you were very gentle and besides my beautiful one, you could never hurt me.'

Elrond took a deep breath. 'I'm frightened,' he said.

'That is only to be expected. I am here with you and I will always be here for you.'

He held his distraught husband, cradled him and stroked his hair. Rhythmic breathing told him that the elf had fallen asleep at last. He moved to pull the cover over both of them. He then drew the elf close so that his head lay in the crook of his neck.

He kissed his forehead. 'I love you Elrond.'

In the two years they had lived together as husbands, he had grown to fully understand the complexity of the Elf Lord's character. A deeply compassionate being, the Lord of Imladris was humorous, regal, knowledgeable, wise, but above all, loving and passionate. They had worked hard in the last two years readying Imladris for his departure.

One thing that brought great satisfaction to Elrond was that Marek, who had fought by his side during the War, had asked permission to re-establish the Holding of Holdenwine. Marek had said that there were many who would join him and work to bring the Holding back to its former glory and position as a Holding. Elrond had wholeheartedly agreed and had added that he would write to the King, his son in law, to have the Royal Seal placed upon the Holding, thus giving it to Marek, his family, kinsmen and followers forever. He had then accompanied Elrond, Glorfindel and Erestor to the statue of Farenth, Lady Holdenwine and had told her that her lands would flourish once again. It was very moving.

Galadriel visited often, as she would be travelling with them.

It was she who had asked the twins to persuade Celeborn to come and live with them in Imladris once she had departed. Elrohir, Elladan, Glorfindel and Erestor were staying longer in Arda and this pleased Elrond. They still loved Arda and wanted to remain as long as possible in the new age. Glorfindel and Erestor would take ship with Celeborn, but the twins had yet to make up their minds if they would follow their father. As the day of departure grew closer, Elrond had grown more agitated. He paced, he slept little and he ate less. He had been distant on the journey to the Havens, so much so, that not even Frodo could reach him at times.

Now he knew the reason.

Elrond was frightened that Celebrían would hate him for bonding again; that he hadn't brought any of their children with him and that he would lose his husband in the process. Mithrandír smiled to himself and kissed the elf again. How little Elrond knew of his wife; how little trust he placed in the Valar. Elrond had been the foremost elf on Arda since the Battle of the Last Alliance. He had held the different Elven groups together with his diplomacy and care. He had gained the trust of Men and Dwarves. Elrond was always an important part of the Father’s Plan to rid Middle Earth of Sauron and he had fulfilled his role without regard or thought of reward. Now the Valar were rewarding him, only he couldn't see it, nor would he take any re-assurance that Celebrían was happy for him and would accept the situation.

'Have I been asleep long, love?' The elf shifted in his arms.

'Not long, elfling.'

'I had a dream. In that dream, I was in Eldamar and I was sitting in a garden. In the distance, I saw two people approaching. As they got closer I realised it was Celebrían and you. She looked at you with such happiness. You both waved at me and when you reached me, you sat either side of me and we embraced each other. It felt warm and good.'

'That was a beautiful dream, Elrond.'

'Do you think that it could be like that?'

'I know that it will be like that, beloved. You deserve all the happiness the Valar gift to you, remember that.' He touched his husband's nose with his fingertip. 'Do you wish to rise and bathe or would you rather stay like this?'

Elrond snuggled deeper into him. 'Stay here, close to you.'

'In that case, I suggest we undress and get into bed.'

Elrond giggled. 'Is that an invitation?'

'You can be a very bad elf sometimes.'

'Ah, but you love me all the same.'

'Yes, I do. Now, let me undress you.'

 

***********

 

They stood together at the side rail of the ship as she passed under the great sea arch that guarded the port. The mariners had pulled in the sails so the ship was now using the current to glide into port. Alqualondë, the Swan Havens, was before them rising white in the early evening light. Frodo stood at Elrond's side. Bilbo was still below deck, making sure his luggage was properly packed.

'Elrond? I see a woman who looks like the Lady Galadriel on the quayside. Who is she?'

'That is Celebrían, Frodo. My wife.'

'How did she know you would be arriving now?'

'Because I told her.'

'Oh? How?'

'I spoke to her mind. When two Elves are bonded, they can speak to each other's minds. Sometimes parents and children have the same connection. My sons have it. As twins, they have always shared a deep connection, much deeper than mere brothers. They believe they are two halves of a whole person. Without the other, each is only half of who they are, and when they are separated, they know if anything is wrong with the other.'

'Will they come to Elvenhome?'

'I know not, Frodo. But whatever choice they make, they will remain together.'

'Elrond? How could the Lady Galadriel speak to my mind? Can she speak to your mind?'

The Elf Lord laughed and placed his hand on Frodo's shoulder.

'Ai, Galadriel and Celeborn can speak to anyone's mind if they so choose. They are the only two Elves I know who can do such a thing. And yes, Galadriel can and does speak to my mind.'

The ship slowed as it approached the quay. Ropes where thrown to elves on the quayside, and the ship was made fast.

'Do you and Gandalf have that link?'

'Yes Frodo, we do.'

'Elrond?'

'Yes, Frodo?'

'What happens now?'

He squeezed Frodo's shoulder in reassurance.

'Now Master Baggins, you begin to heal.'

'Yes, I understand that. But what about the basics, somewhere to live, food, that kind of thing?'

Elrond laughed. 'Ah, I forget you are a seasoned campaigner. My dear friend, you can live anywhere and all the food you need will be provided.'

'Could Bilbo and I have a Hobbit hole?'

'Yes, I'm sure you can.'

'Elrond?'

'Yes, Frodo?'

'Can I come and visit you?'

The tall elf knelt down before the Hobbit.

'My dearest Ringbearer, you will be welcome at any time, you and Bilbo both. I am your friend now and forever.'

'Aye, so am I, Frodo,' the wizard added.

'Do not forget that the Lady of the Golden Wood is also the Ringbearer's friend. I would wish for you to visit me often once we are settled, Frodo.'

'Thank you all,' Frodo stared straight ahead, but Elrond saw the tears.

'You are now the most honoured Frodo. Do not weep. Your pain and sorrow will be soothed and the Valar have nothing but love for you. No doubt you will be kept busy recounting your story for a long time.'

'Do the Valar like stories?'

'They love nothing better than to sit with a good ale or wine, plenty of victuals and listen to a good story.'

The Hobbit looked up at him and smiled brightly.

'Are they by any chance Hobbits?' he laughed.

'They love Hobbits, Frodo. You will be very comfortable with them.'

The ship was secure and a companionway was placed against the side.

'It is time, my friends,' Mithrandír said.

Galadriel led the way followed by Frodo and Bilbo, who had finally appeared on deck and lastly, Elrond and Mithrandír. Behind all, Shadowfax followed his master, as Meara and wizard would not be parted.

Celebrían came towards them.

Elrond felt his heart leap into his mouth and his heart beat faster. If Mithrandír had not been holding firmly onto his hand, he would have turned and fled.

'Nana,' Celebrían fell into her mother's arms.

'Sell-nin,' and Galadriel wept with joy.

When they separated, Galadriel tucked a stray strand of hair behind her daughter's ear and kissed her brow.

Celebrían then knelt before the Hobbits.

'Greetings, Frodo and Bilbo Baggins of the Shire; you are most welcome. I am Celebrían and I hope that we can be friends.'

‘It will be as you wish, Lady,’ Bilbo bowed low.

'I would like nothing better, Lady,' Frodo answered, also with a bow.

Then she was before him, he swallowed nervously.

Her eyes met his and she smiled. A warm, bright smile that held none of the fear and sorrow he had seen before she had departed. She raised her hand and touched his cheek. The evening light shone on her hair, highlighting the gold held within. He had forgotten her loveliness and seeing her now reminded him why he had loved her. She looked radiant, dressed in a robe of white that accentuated her form with a girdle of spun gold around her waist. The robe left her arms exposed and her flesh was soft and shimmered in the light; her feet were bare, yet she was nearly as tall as her husband.

'Welcome, hervenn-nin. Long have I awaited this day.' She embraced him and did not pull away when his arms encircled her.

'Celebrían. My joy at seeing you is without bounds. You look very well.'

'Yes Elrond. Here I have found my healing ... and peace.' Her voice was melodious and soft.

She turned then to the wizard.

'Ah, my dear Mithrandír, how I have missed you.' She embraced him tightly. 'You are different, no longer Grey, but White. It is very becoming.'

‘And you are a beautiful as they day I first saw you, my dear Celebrían,’ and she accepted his kisses to her cheeks with a soft laugh.

She took his hand and that of Elrond and joined them together.

'Come, we three have much to discuss and I know that Manwë and Elbereth wish to speak with you as well. I have found a house in the city for all of us. It is not far. May I invite nana and the Periain to come with us, just until they find something for themselves?'

Celebrían took Galadriel’s hand. Frodo and Bilbo walked behind mother and daughter.

'I think that is a wonderful idea, my love,' Elrond said as he and Mithrandír followed. Shadowfax walked behind all.

'Is it large enough for all of us?' Frodo asked.

'It will suffice for now Master Frodo. I do not live in the Swan Havens, but near Tirion, which is many leagues to the south of here. But we can stay in the city for as long as it pleases you. Where I have my house for example is in the town of Amanalonë. There are forests and hills and mountains nearby and it is close enough to Tirion to travel there in less than a day. So I am sure you will find somewhere suitable to live. Now, are you hungry?’ Celebrían deftly changed the subject. ‘I have heard that Periain have even larger appetites than Istari.'

Mithrandír, who was walking along with Elrond, laughed out loud at this comment.

'Ah, my dear Celebrían, I had quite forgotten that particular meal. But indeed, Periain, or Hobbits as they preferred to be called, have prodigious appetites.'

'Not prodigious, Gandalf; just large,' Bilbo replied.

The small group entered the city and caused many to stop and stare and then bow low in greeting.

‘Why are they bowing to us, my Lady?’ Frodo asked.

‘Because you are Ringbearer and your story is already known and you and Bilbo are greatly honoured in Eldamar,’ Celebrian replied even as the Hobbits blushed to the very roots of their hair.

For his part, Shadowfax thought that the two-legged were bowing to him, which would have been right and proper; so he arched his neck, held his head high, flicked his tail and high stepped lightly over the ground.

Celebrían took them along wide avenues that opened into squares with fountains; banners and flowers where everywhere and the buildings blended tall sharp angles with soft, sensuous curves to great effect. The trees and grass were vibrant green and lush.

As the final rays of Anor spread its red and golden fire over the city, Elrond looked up into the sky. Overhead, a great white bird dipped and wheeled above him before flying high and disappearing into the east. A single white feather floated down and landed at his feet. He stooped to pick it up and as he did so, he looked skywards again.

_< <'Welcome, ion-nin,_' >>the soft voice filled his mind.

'Nana,' he whispered and held the feather to his heart.

 

 

 

***************************

 

 

 

 

_ TRANSLATIONS _

_Ada = Daddy_

_Adar = Father_

_Herren Istari = Order of Wizards_

_Hannon le = Thank you_

_Ion = Son_

_Ion-nin = My son_

_Mae govannen = Well Met – (a usual form of greeting)_

_Meleth = Love (as an endearment)_

_Meldanya = my love_

_Melme = Beloved_

_Nana = Mummy_

_Naneth = Mother_

_Peredhel (S) = Half-Elven_

_Perelda (Q) = Half-Elven_

_Perian (S) =Hobbit_

_Periain (S) = Hobbits_

_Periandi (Q) = Hobbits_

_Sell-nin = My daughter_

_Suilad = Greetings_

_Telemnar Lestánore = Silver Flame of Doriath_

 

_(As always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project; The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company.)_

 


	15. Many Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of their life together in Eldamar - and the meeting Elrond has been dreading.
> 
> **********************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the penultimate chapter in this story. As always, my Kudos! to Beckymonster for the beta - all remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> *******************************************

 

Chapter 15

Many Meetings

_“You smiled ohh and then the spell was cast,_

_And here we are in heaven,_

_For you are mine at last.”_   
  


They turned a corner and the surroundings changed. It was as if the countryside had merged with city. Woodland and meadows spread out before them, animals of all types wandered in and out of view. The air was thick with the hum of night insects and everywhere moths darted from flower to flower.

'I like this place,' Frodo said.

'Yes, Frodo my lad, I think we will be happy here. It has all the qualities of the Shire,' Bilbo added.

Celebrían laughed her silver laugh.

'I am pleased Frodo. Perhaps you and Bilbo would like a home to be built here? However, I think you should wait until you see the rest of Eldamar as you may find somewhere that suits you better.' Celebrían laid her hand gently on Frodo's head as she spoke. He looked up into her face and smiled.

'Here is the house,' she said.

The building was approached through gates that opened into a courtyard. A large fountain splashed in the centre, and the upper story was hung with baskets of bright flowers. Shadowfax had followed his Man into the courtyard; he stood and looked around then tossed his head as if to say ‘this is a Man house, where there is a man house there are usually houses for the four legged.’ He pawed at the hard ground, sending sparks flying. Mithrandír put his arms around the soft neck and whispered to him.

‘You are free to run, only … listen for my call; otherwise … you can come and go as you please,’ with that, he stood back and Shadowfax nuzzled him once, turned and walked out of the courtyard.

‘Will he come back, Gandalf?’ Frodo asked.

‘He will; when I need him, he will answer. And I dare say that the mares of Eldamar will welcome his company.’

There were large doors at one end of the courtyard, they were open and this is where Celebrían led them. Inside, the building was simple, a hallway with corridors leading from it.

 She stopped and turned to them, lifting her arms. 'Welcome. May the Grace of the Valar be with all who dwell herein. This house is your home for as long as you wish.'

A she-elf appeared and took Bilbo and Frodo by the hand. She smiled at Frodo and winked at him. Frodo blushed deeply.

'Laniel will take you to your rooms, little masters,' Celebrían said. 'They are on this level and if you require anything, you have only to ask.'

She then turned to Galadriel.

'Nana, your rooms are on the upper levels. Come, I will show you. And you two,' she addressed Elrond and Mithrandír with a quick smile, 'can choose any of the rooms along that corridor. I will see you soon, hervenn.'

She led her mother up the stairs. When she had disappeared, Elrond turned to the wizard.

'Shall we, melme?'

Mithrandír nodded and with arms around each other waist, they wandered along the corridor looking in all the rooms. They found several to their immediate liking, including a suite very much like Elrond's chambers in Imladris, comprising of a library, sitting room, bathing room and a large bedroom. This room was open on one side and led directly out into a large, private garden. They smiled in agreement and the choice was made.

They stood in the middle of the room for many minutes, not knowing what they should do or when Celebrían would return. They removed their travelling cloaks, laying them a chair. Elrond wandered out into the garden. There were plants in large tubs, the grass was neat and trimmed and the flowers were bright and gaudy, giving the garden an exotic feel.

'This is nothing like my garden in Imladris, is it, melme?' said Elrond.

While Elrond stood in the garden, Mithrandír took a closer look around the rooms that would be their home for a time. He hummed softly to himself, Bilbo’s song about the road going ever on, which seemed appropriate. The bathing room was large, but by Imladris standards, old fashioned as there was a large furnace that was lit and heated water in a large copper tank. The sitting room was spacious and would easily accommodate a crowd; the bedroom was enormous, which was fortunate as the bed was the largest he had ever seen. Back in the garden, Elrond had not moved, he still held the white feather to his heart and seemed lost in thought. He went and put his arms around his husband and rested his chin on the elf’s shoulder.

‘I know, I know,’ he said, ‘it is beginning to dawn on you that you will be lumbered with me for eternity,’ he gave an exaggerated sigh.

Elrond covered his hands with his own and laughed softly. ‘That prospect I can live with; the prospect of being here, in Eldamar … feels very strange.’

‘You will have your nana again.’

‘And that fills me with dread, beloved.’

‘How so?’

‘What if …?’ Elrond stopped. Mithrandír pulled his round to face him.

‘What if … what, Elrond? Tell me.

‘What if I disappoint her? What if she doesn’t like me? After all it has been several thousand years since she saw me last.’

Gently Mithrandír pulled his meleth into him. ‘She is your nana, she loves you and you love her. So I can’t see any problem.’

‘You are very confident about everything these days.’ Elrond lifted his head and looked at the wizard. ‘All right, who are you and what have you done with Olórin?’ Elrond chuckled.

‘I am confident because I happen to know things,’ Mithrandír gave a small smile.

‘Oh, like what?’

‘That your nana can’t wait to see you; that Celebrían will be very happy that we are married and …’

Elrond tilted his head slightly. ‘And …?’ he prompted.

‘… And you love me.’

Elrond burst out laughing now, his melancholy vanished. He hugged the wizard to him and nuzzled his ear. He thought how wonderful his husband felt and how his hair still held the fresh, salt tang of the sea. He felt the heart beating strong and steady beneath his hand and he thanked the Valar once again for blessing him.

‘I am aware of how good you smell and how inviting your round buttocks seem,' he said slipping his hand down the wizard’s back; his voice was low and sensual. He nipped the tip of Mithrandír’s ear, which made him gasp. He then nipped at the soft, sensitive part of the neck.

'You cannot seriously be thinking what I know you are thinking, melme.'

_< <'How do you know what I am thinking, Istar?'>>_

Elrond’s voice was teasing and caressed the wizard’s mind like silk.

_< < ‘Because I feel your arousal pressing against me, inviting me to rub myself against you.'>>_

'Would that displease you?' Elrond said as he dropped his hand so it brushed against the growing bulge in his husband’s trews.

Mithrandír covered the elf’s hand with his own and rubbed it back and forth against his erection.

'Ah, but you are a bad wizard. Now you tease me beyond endurance.'

They kissed and fell together onto the grass, laughing as they touched and caressed each other. It was only a loud cough that made them stop and look around. Frodo and Bilbo were standing watching them.

‘Ever heard of knocking, Ringbearer?’ Mithrandír grumbled as he sat up.

‘I did; loudly; twice, but you were too busy … talking … to hear,’ and he grinned widely at the two. Mithrandír pulled Elrond up and they smoothed down their clothes.

‘Do they talk a lot?’ Bilbo asked Frodo conversationally.

‘Yes, uncle; all the time,’ and this time, he laughed.

Elrond and Mithrandír gave each other one last kiss.

_< < ‘Never mind dear one, I will devise a way to repay the young Hobbit>>’_ Mithrandír mindspoke to Elrond.

‘Now, how can we help you, Frodo?’ Elrond asked.

Before the Hobbit could answer, there was a knock at the door.

'Enter.' Elrond called.

A she-elf came into the room.

'Excuse me, Lord Elrond, but the Lady Celebrían would like to see you in her rooms. Would you follow me, please?'

Elrond looked at Mithrandír with pleading eyes.

'Melme?'

'Go to her, beloved. Tell her how you feel, tell her of your love for her.'

The Elrond nodded and followed the she-elf.

 

*******************

 

His wife's rooms were up on the upper level. This surprised him, as she had always favoured the garden rooms at Imladris. His guide led him around a corner and knocked on a door. He heard his wife's voice bid them enter. The she-elf opened the door for him and allowed him to enter. Celebrían stood at the far end of the room and turned as he entered. The door was closed and they were alone.

Neither moved. They stood looking at each other, as if remembering each other's forms and looks.

'Have you no words for me, my Lord?' Celebrían broke the lengthy silence.

Still he stood silent. Her beauty was as he remembered, golden, soft and delicate. Her eyes watched him and he tried to gauge if there was any fear or pain held within those blue orbs.

'Celebrían, how fare you?' he felt stupid even as the words left his lips.

She laughed long and clear.

'My dear husband, I fare very well. Now, come, embrace me.'

He moved forward slowly, unsure how he would feel holding her again. He stopped in front of her. She held out her arms to him and pulled him into an embrace. He sighed at her feminine softness and she melted into him.

'It is good to hold you again, hervess.'

When they parted, she held his gaze, then reached up and stroked his cheek. The gentle touch of her hand was something he had forgotten. That she touched him of her own accord filled his heart with joy. She led him to a divan; they sat next to each other and held hands.

'There is much we need to speak of, you and I,' she said.

'Yes, Mithrandír ...'

'Mithrandír loves you deeply, as you do him. Elrond, I can't begin to tell you of my happiness that you have found love again with Mithrandír.' She stilled his voice with her hand. 'No, it is true, even when I was still in Arda, I did not begrudge your relationship with him. Indeed, I encouraged it and you know that I love him deeply for being your friend. You needed friends, my love.'

'I do love him deeply.' He dropped his head. 'But I still love you, my wife.'

She laughed again and he thought it beautiful. In the last months at Imladris, she had not smiled, let alone laugh.

'Good, because I too have need of friends ... and love, Elrond.' She grew serious once more. 'I am healed in part. I can now tolerate the touch of certain others. But I am not sure if I could ...' she paused, searching for the right words. '... if I could be intimate with you in the way you would desire.'

'That I can touch you again is a blessing from the Valar, my love. I do not wish for more at this time.'

She squeezed his hand. 'Thank you, Elrond. You were ever a considerate husband. Now, I have a proposal to put to you regarding the living arrangements.'

He held his breath. Would she want him to forsake Mithrandír? Would she desire to have him to herself exclusively?

'It would please me very much if we could all be friends. My dearest wish is for you and Mithrandír to be together as husbands. You not only have your deep love, but your deep, physical relationship as well.' She smiled at him. 'I cannot offer you physical love, hervenn. I cannot offer physical love to any male.'

'Celebrían ...'

'Please, let me finish, for I am finding this more difficult than I thought.'

She composed herself again and he took her hand and kissed it. It was so good just to be able to that simple thing again. He thought of how she used to flinch and snatch her hands from his if he reached for them. How he could not kiss her forehead without her gasping in fear and pulling away.

'Elrond,' she continued. 'I still love you and you know I love Mithrandír. It would please me to be a close friend to you both. For I need your companionship most deeply. But, I ... I am finding healing and solace in the arms of another.'

She blushed to the tips of her delicate ears.

'You have taken another lover?'

'Yes. Someone who is patient and loving, someone who understands the nature of my wounds.'

He was confused by her words. She could not be intimate with him, yet she had a lover, how so?

'May I ask who?' He found he was holding his breath again. Would it be someone he knew? A Lord from the First Age perhaps?

'Tarmielwë. The she-elf who brought you here.' Celebrían dropped her gaze and twisted a fold in her gown. 'Please understand Elrond, I needed to be loved again. I needed the softness of a female's touch.'

'Is she outside?' he asked.

Celebrían nodded.

'Please, ask her to come in.'

Tarmielwë came into the room and stood away from both of them.

'Do you have the connection?' he asked.

'Yes, hervenn.'

Rising, he went to his wife's lover and stood before her. Tarmielwë was tall, her black hair fell in thick waves to her waist.

'You are Noldo?' he said.

'Yes, Lord. My father is Falwë, son of Findred. My mother is Ulmièl, daughter of Saliniel.' She met his eyes with a steady gaze.

'I know your parents. They came to Eldamar after the fall of Lindon. Did you accompany them?'

'Yes, Lord.'

'Do you love my wife?' he spoke very softly.

'Aye, my Lord, with all my heart. I suffered a similar fate to that of Celebrían. I too, was broken in spirit and heart. Together we have found healing, we have learnt to love and trust again.'

He took her hands and held them.

'Thank you. You achieved that which I could not. For all my healing skills, I could not reach her heart and heal that.'

He released her and watched as she went and sat by Celebrían, taking her hand.

'I still love you, Celebrían and I want us to be friends, close friends. Is that possible?'

She rose from her seat and went to him. She cupped his face in her hands and gently leaned into him and her kiss felt like a butterfly's wing beat.

'I want nothing else, melme. For the four of us to be friends fulfils one of my dreams.'

'What are your other dreams?' he asked, but knew what they were.

'That our children come to Eldamar to be with their parents.'

His heart sank and realised that their reunion could be less happy from this point.

'Wife, I need to tell you about our children.'

He led her back to the divan and they sat down. He told her about Arwen and Estel. Then he told her that the twins were remaining in Arda, at least until the last ship sailed; that Celeborn was living in Imladris with them and those of his household and Galadhrim who had remained behind. He spoke quietly, evenly, not letting her see his own distress at the possibility of not seeing their children again.

'Arwen chose a mortal life?' her voice was a whisper. 'Ah, my child, my dearest daughter, my heart is with you. Be at peace with your choice and perhaps you will be admitted into the arms of Námo at your passing.'

Elrond wasn't sure if she was talking to him or herself and when she lifted her face to him, tears shone on her cheeks.

'We will never see our grandchildren, Elrond. That makes me sad, sadder than even losing my daughter. But the twins may still come?'

'They had not decided when I departed,' he remained non-committal, but in his heart, he feared that their sons would choose to stay in Arda and he could not bring himself to tell her. She had learned that her daughter had chosen the mortal life and she had wept. The truth about the twins could wait, he would choose the time to tell her and then they would weep together.

She nodded her understanding. Tarmielwë took Celebrían’s hand in her own.

They rose together and stood before him. 'Thank you for telling me. Now, go to Mithrandír.'

She leaned in and kissed his cheek before he bowed to them both and left.

 

***************************

 

When Elrond returned to their rooms, he found that their luggage had been delivered from the ship; books cases and boxes were strewn over the floor. Mithrandír was not inside, so he ventured out into the garden. Although it was now fully dark, the garden was filled with the light from numerous torches. He found the wizard sitting on the grass with the Hobbits. Books surrounded them, as did a rather substantial looking picnic.

Mithrandír rose as he approached.

Elrond stopped before him. 'I hate you when you are right' he said and raised an eyebrow.

'Do you feel reassured now?'

'Completely.'

'Good. Now show me just how much you hate me.'

Elrond pulled his husband to him. He loved the feel of the firm, muscled body pressed against his. It was strong and lithe. So different to his wife, her body was soft with feminine curves. Her breasts would press into him and her soft mound would rub against his elf-hood. It was arousing, but in a different way to the body of Mithrandír.

The wizard's body was like his own, a map of something he knew well. From stroking the firm muscles, he knew the contours of arms and legs; the sensuous curve of the back that made his beloved quiver with delight when kisses were trailed along its length. The inviting roundness of the buttocks, protecting the secret place wherein lay the greatest pleasure. The length and thickness of the magnificent cock that he could lick and tease until it wept droplets of pearl liquid into his hungry mouth. All of this was known. Nothing was a mystery and all of it he could claim as his and his alone.

He looped his arm around Mithrandír's waist, pulling him close, pressing their bodies together. He found the sweet lips and kissed them, long and deep. Slipping his tongue between his teeth, he let it roll and dance around the moist cavern. It was only the need for air forced them apart.

Bilbo gave a loud cheer. 'About time if you ask me.'

'Time for what, Master Baggins?' Elrond asked, not letting go of his husband.

'That you trusted Gandalf. We've done it for years, haven't we, Frodo, my lad?

'Yes, Uncle, we have.'

'Come on, you two. Come and help us finish our picnic,' Bilbo continued. 'Lovely spread Lady Celebrían provided for us.'

Elrond and Mithrandír laughed as they joined their friends. They ate and drank, they talked of many things and when Lady Galadriel came to join them, the Hobbits ate and drank along with her, so as to keep her company.

'So, Frodo, does Eldamar meet with your approval?' she asked.

'So far, My Lady, but I confess I am still unsettled by having to meet the Valar,' Frodo said.

She leaned into him and tilted his head with her slender fingers.

'You who have faced the greatest fear and darkness need not fear the Valar. They are pleased with you and love you.'

'If you say so, Lady.'

'Please, Frodo, call me Galadriel. I would like that.'

Bilbo nudged the younger Hobbit and grinned at him.

Elrond noticed and laughed. 'Frodo Baggins, I do believe my mother-in-law likes you.'

Frodo blushed deeply but beamed back at the Lady of the Golden Wood.

'It would please me to call you Galadriel,' and he rose and bowed to her.

She laughed at his gallantry and patted the grass for Frodo to sit next to her.

'So, Elrond, you have spoken with my daughter. How are things between the two of you?'

'Celebrían wishes for the four of us, that is, she, Mithrandír, Tarmielwë and I to be friends. Did she tell you that she has a lover?'

'It was one of the first things she said to me. She introduced me to her and told me that she would be speaking to you. She hoped that you would all be friends. I am pleased at this outcome.'

Elrond felt his husband's arm snake around his waist and pull him close. He rested his head on the wizard's shoulder.

'She will speak to you as well, melme,' he said.

'I know,' Mithrandír replied. 'Now, if you have all finished, it has been a long day and I wish to go to bed. I'm tired.'

'Oh, come on, Gandalf, there's tons of food left. Just a while longer, please?’ said Bilbo.

'Take the food with you, dear Bilbo, but I wish to sleep.'

The Hobbits complied with the request and helped Galadriel pack up enough food to last them the rest of the night.

'Sleep well, you two,' Bilbo called. 'Although I sincerely doubt there will be much sleeping.'

Galadriel's golden laugh was the last thing they heard as the door closed.

Elrond yawned as they walked back inside. 'I'm also tired, melme.'

They left the doors to the garden open as they went into the bedroom to undress. Mithrandír slipped into the large bed.

'Then come and let me ease you into slumber, meleth-nin.'

Elrond undressed, climbed into bed and was gathered into the wizard's arms. He sighed, a long heartfelt sigh.

'How was it between you and Celebrían?' he asked.

'It was just as you had predicted. She is very happy that I have you.'

'She was always understanding and generous, beloved.'

'She loves you as well. Can't understand why.'

Mithrandír poked the Elf in the ribs. 'We always liked each other,' he laughed. 'She would complain to me about you and the children. I would agree with her wholeheartedly, swap gossip and then we would take tea. It was a beautiful arrangement.'

'She encouraged us to be together. Did you realise that?'

'Yes,' came simple reply.

'Oh. I don't think I did.'

Mithrandír heard the catch in the elf's voice. Elrond was beginning to doubt again.

They were quiet for a time.

'Elrond?' Mithrandír spoke at last. 'Your wife is a remarkable person. She loves you deeply and she knew, still does know that you love her equally. But she also knew that I needed you. She had the greatness of heart to share you with me and for that, I will always love her.'

The Elf Lord leaned up on his elbow and looked down at his beloved.

'Thank you, my love.' He lay down again. 'She was upset about the children of course.'

'Of course.' Mithrandír stroked his cheek. He had to lift Elrond's sudden melancholia.

'She was also upset that we would not see our grandchildren.'

'Only natural.' The wizard nibbled the delicate point of the Elf's ear, eliciting a gasp.

'She is so much better. She even allowed me to embrace her.'

'That is good news.' The mouth was trailing soft kisses around his husband’s throat.

'Olórin?'

'Yes?'

'You're not tired anymore, are you?'

'Ah, Elrond. You read me like a book. I deny ... nothing.' He laughed before taking a nipple into his mouth and teasing it with his tongue.

'Make love to me, hervenn.'

'I intend to, beautiful elf. I intend to.'

 

*****************************

 

 

 

 

_ TRANSLATIONS _

 

_Ada = Daddy_

_Adar = Father_

_Herren Istari = Order of Wizards_

_Hannon le = Thank you_

_Ion = Son_

_Ion-nin = My son_

_Mae govannen = Well Met – (a usual form of greeting)_

_Meleth = Love (as an endearment)_

_Meldanya = my love_

_Melme = Beloved_

_Nana = Mummy_

_Naneth = Mother_

_Peredhel (S) = Half-Elven_

_Perelda (Q) = Half-Elven_

_Perian (S) =Hobbit_

_Periain (S) = Hobbits_

_Periandi (Q) = Hobbits_

_Sell-nin = My daughter_

_Suilad = Greetings_

_Telemnar Lestánore = Silver Flame of Doriath_

_(As always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project; The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company.)_

 


	16. The White Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elrond visits his nana at last and he sees a ghost from his past.
> 
> ***********************************************

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta by the awesome Beckymonster - hannon le, mellon-nin. Any remaining mistakes are mine.
> 
> *********************************************

 

Chapter 16 

The White Tower

 

_“He drew me near and nearer,_

_We neither spoke a word._

_But the beating of our two hearts_

_Was the only sound I heard.”_

_**********_

The path that led to the White Tower snaked along the cliff top. Elrond could see the Tower clearly, although it seemed to him that he wasn't getting any closer. He was, at last, going to visit his mother, a decision he had put off for some time. Celebrían reminded him each day of the fact that he still had not visited Elwing. He would make all the right noises of reassurance that he would go soon. He would then put the idea to the back of his mind until the next day. Sometimes, both Mithrandír and his wife reminded him. Then he would take himself off alone, to be with his thoughts and memories.

How could he visit his mother? It was almost seven thousand years since he had last seen her; since she had flung herself into the waters with her Silmaril to escape capture. He had not seen her again. His mind thought back over the long years, searching the deep rooms of his memory to remember life before she left. But he couldn't. It was all too far away, too distant.

This morning though, he had risen, bathed and dressed with care. At breakfast, he announced to those present that he was going to the White Tower to see his mother. No one had said a word, but all sat with large grins, beaming at him throughout the rest of breakfast. He dithered for the rest of morning, still in two minds as to whether he should go; but after enduring the hard stares of his friends over luncheon, he finally got ready. Olórin had brushed and plaited his hair, fixing the beautiful butterfly clip in place. The clip had once belonged to Elwing, the only token the young elfling had of his mother before he and Elros were taken hostage. He had kept it for all those years, wearing it every day of his mature life as the only tangible memory.

The afternoon sun shone and billowing clouds floated across an azure sky. His lips felt the tang of salt as he walked along the path. Wild flowers grew on the headland and waved their colourful head in the sea breeze. Above, sea birds called and soared over the waves. The path turned and dropped as it led towards the base of the White Tower. He thought it strange that it should have suddenly appeared; it had seemed so far away a mere twenty paces back.

The door was open. He stopped on the threshold, unsure as to what he would do or say. Then he heard her voice. The song she sung told of the sea and lost love, of waves, sea spray and starlit nights.

He faltered.

He remembered her voice.

He remembered her face.

He remembered her gentle hands soothing his brow and her lips kissing his cheeks.

He took a step into the tower and climbed the stairs towards her voice.

He remembered her perfume that smelt like a summer garden filled with roses.

Two at a time now he took the stairs, upwards, towards her voice.

He stopped at the top

She was standing with her back to him, looking out through open windows across the Great Sea. Her white hair flowed in waves to her waist. She stopped her song and slowly turned to face him.

Her grey eyes fixed upon his and held him in their depth. He moved forward slowly. She smiled and opened her arms.

'Nana,' he heard himself say before he was clasped in her embrace. Tears streamed down his cheeks and she stroked his hair.

'Shh. Shh, ion-nin. I have you once again.'

Elrond wept and laughed at the same time; but eventually, he did stop weeping. She dried his tears with the hem of her sleeve, as she did when he was a child.

She kissed his brow. 'You have matured into a very handsome elf, ion-nin. But then I always knew you would.' She held him at arm’s length, looking at him closely. 'Yes, very handsome. Celebrían does not exaggerate.' She laughed a deep, rich laugh, which took Elrond back to his childhood.

'It is wonderful to see you, nana.'

'Long have I awaited this day, Elrond.' She hugged him again. 'You have much to tell me. Too much, for this, our first meeting. Come and sit with me, have tea and let us speak of things.'

With a final kiss, she took his hand and led him across the circular room where two chairs and a low table were set with tea and small cakes.

Elrond sat opposite his naneth, still staring in disbelief at her. He watched as she poured tea and studied her face. She was still beautiful, but her beauty held something else. Something he could not define. Her eyes shone with love when she looked at him; but her smile held the ghosts of loss and regret.

She passed him a cup. 'Tell me of Maglor and your time with the son of Feanor.'

Elrond looked at her, unsure if she really meant him to tell her the details of his and Elros' captivity.

'Fear not, mir-nin. I have heard only one side of the tale of your captivity. Now I would hear it from you. So tell me, Elrond, spare me nothing, for I am Elwing and I am strong. Strong, like the sea; strong like the stars; strong like my sons.'

Elrond sipped his tea and then set the cup down. 'I believe our family were betrayed.'

 

****************

 

 Mithrandír followed Elrond. He wasn't really following him, of course. He wanted to be there when his husband left his mother to come home. He knew that Elrond would need him. The White Tower came into view and he stopped. He sat to the side of the path that Elrond would walk back along, so that he would not miss him.

He pulled his knees up and wrapping his arms around them, staring out at the sea. The water sparkled like Simarilli, the blue green of the surface broken only by the white crests of waves that crashed onto the shore. He watched the sea birds as they flew back and forth or dived into the water for fish. The birds called to each other as they banked and dipped above him.

A large white bird came and landed close to him. It cocked its head to one side as it watched him, its black eyes seemingly taking in his form. Mithrandír clucked to the bird, something he thought would allow him communicate with the animal. Radagast had used the same trick when speaking to his feathered friends. The white bird however, seemed unaware that this was a form of contact, as it screeched at him before flying off. Mithrandír laughed to himself, he certainly had more of a rapport with horses.

He lay back and stretched out in the fragrant grass. Looking up, he watched fluffy clouds sail across the sea of deepest blue that was the sky. His thoughts drifted to the time they had already spent in Alqualondë. Their days fell into an easy rhythm. He and Elrond would rise, bathe and break their fast; then they would wander out into the garden to read or talk. They would join the Hobbits, Galadriel, Celebrían and Tarmielwe for luncheon; after they would then retire to their bed for the afternoon to make love or simply to hold each other close. The evenings were a time of gaiety, songs and tales. Sometimes they would all venture into the town and spend the evening drinking the soft, pale wine so beloved of the Elda, while the large square filled with merrymakers. Other times they would gather together at their house, enjoying each other’s company; then there would be tales to be told and songs to be sung. Bilbo was often the one called upon to render these tales and Frodo to sing the songs.

As much as he loved living in the Swan Havens, he knew that Elrond would not be truly happy until they had their own house. Much to everyone’s surprise, Elrond wanted to live nearer Tirion. He wanted a valley, a river and waterfalls. He also wanted his own gardens. The Hobbits wanted a hill for a Hobbit hole, so it would seem that decisions to move might be made soon.

The breeze picked up momentarily, causing the grass to sway and ripple. He looked up at Anor. It was later than he thought as the yellow orb was dipping in the west, making the late afternoon twilight soften more. His thoughts turned to Elrond. He loved the elf more with each passing day. Their bond grew ever stronger and the depth of passion for each other made their lovemaking intense.

He felt his loins stir as he thought of his beloved. Because of Elrond's visit to Elwing, they had missed their afternoon intimacy, which meant that the night held pleasure beyond thought. He was fully erect, his cock pushing against the thin material of his trews. He thought of the elf's body, strong, firm and slick with the gleam of sweat, pressed against his own. He smelt the pungent odour of recent lovemaking. His hand brushed against his erection and he gasped softly. He imagined the elf's hand brushing against him and a hot tongue trailing down his body until it reached his weeping cock. He bucked his hips, imagining his husband’s hungry mouth devouring him. A groan escaped his lips. His throbbing cock was taken into a hot mouth ...

A cough brought him out of his fantasy.

'I do hope it is thoughts of me that have made your passion rise, meleth-nin.'

Mithrandír focused his eyes on Elrond. The Elf Lord stood above him, smiling weakly, an eyebrow raised.

Mithrandír cleared his throat. 'I was merely ... waiting ... passing the time ... until ...' he let the sentence trail off, his passion forgotten as he saw the distress on the Elf's face.

Elrond sat down by him and crossed his legs. He studied his hands closely. Mithrandír sat up quickly, reached out and drew Elrond to him. The elf laid his head on his husband's shoulder and sighed heavily,

'I had forgotten how much I love her,' Elrond said.

Mithrandír said nothing. He waited, stroking his beloved's cheeks and kissing his hair.

'There is so much we need to talk about and say to each other,' the elf continued. 'She loved Elros and me greatly. She didn't want to leave us, but she had too. To protect the Silmaril; to find Adar and give it to him. It guided them to Valinor, did you know that?'

'I had heard, melme,' Mithrandir answered.

'Today she wanted to know what happened after the destruction of Arvernien and how Maglor treated Elros and me. I told her, told her of the betrayal by one of our kindred. How else did the sons of Feanor know here to find Elros and me? Naneth knew that at some point the sons of Feanor would come for the Silmaril and our escape plans were known only to certain members of the household.'

'How did she take that news?'

'A shadow of pain crossed her face … then vanished.'

The sun sank on the horizon, changing the sea to molten gold. One by one bright stars appeared in the heavens. They sat together, Mithrandír with his arms locked around his husband, Elrond with his head resting still on Mithrandír's shoulder.

'She had to escape,' Elrond said. 'The sons of Feanor wanted her Silmaril and would have stopped at nothing to possess it. At least this way we all survived, except Adar.'

'That is not quite true, beloved,' Mithrandír said gently.

'Adar left and was never seen again in Arda. Nana misses him very much.'

'Do you not see your father each night? Is it not you who points to him in the heavens and tells me "that is my father"? As long as you continue to do that, Elrond, your father is always with you.'

The Elf Lord lifted his head and smiled. 'How is it that you are always able to lift my spirits, melme?'

'Because, beautiful elf, sometimes you are too close to things to really see and understand what matters.'

Elrond leaned in and brushed his lips against Mithrandír's, soft, delicate kiss that carried his love with it.

'We did not have our afternoon rest,' Mithrandír said.

Elrond laughed. 'I do not recall _resting_ when we retire for the afternoon.'

'Ah! My point exactly,' Mithrandír said as he stood and pulled the Elf to his feet. 'And as I have no wish to ravish you so close to your mother's Tower, may I suggest I take you back to the city? Then we can make up for lost time.'

They walked arm in arm in the soft night. The air was heavy with the fragrance of night flowers blown on the sea breeze.

'I have not told Elwing about you, melme.'

'No matter, I expect she knows about me by now,' Mithrandír replied.

'Oh? How so?'

Mithrandír recounted how the white sea bird had landed by him.

'It pierced me with its beady, black eyes, Elrond. I believe it was not a bird at all.'

'Nana does have power over the sea-going birds,' Elrond laughed. 'I wonder what she makes of you?'

Mithrandír pulled the Elf to a halt. 'Look up, meleth-nin,' he pointed to the brightest star in the heavens. 'There is your father.'

Elrond looked skyward. He raised his arms in greeting to his father and it seemed that the star glowed yet brighter for a moment.

'Thank you,' he said, both to the star and his husband.

As they walked, Mithrandír caught Elrond around the waist and drew him close. Their hips rested against each other and he enjoyed the contact.

'I will visit her again tomorrow, melme. Is that agreeable with you?'

'Elrond, beloved husband, you can visit your mother every day forever if it so pleases you. I will wait for you each day and we can walk back together. If you like, you can tell me the things that you and your mother speak of and I will listen. And when the time is right, you will introduce me to her. But for the time being, the time you spend with her is yours and yours alone. Until then, we will then walk back and I will have my arm around you, just as it is now and I will feel your hip pressing against mine. I will hurry you along so that I can get you into bed and press more than my hips against you.'

Elrond let his hand drop to the firm roundness of Mithrandír's buttock. 'I will look forward with growing anticipation to our evenings together from now on, melme.' He stepped in front of Mithrandír, causing him to stop; Elrond pulled him into a kiss.

Mithrandír answered the kiss, flicking his tongue along the sensitive lips. Then Elrond's tongue was in his mouth. The kiss deepened as tongues caressed, probed and inflamed them. Breathless, they drew part. Mithrandír moaned and laid his head in the crook of Elrond's neck. The elf slipped his hand between them and found his husband rock hard.

'Let me give you release, Olórin-nin,' he whispered softly into Mithrandír's ear. 'For I doubt you will be able to walk much further unless I do.' He emphasised his point by stroking the engorged shaft with his fingertips. He smiled as he felt it twitch in response.

'Ah, meleth-nin,' Mithrandír's voice was unsteady and ragged with need. 'Bring me to release, I beg you. But do it quickly for I am on the verge of spending. Your kisses inflame me and your hand teases me beyond endurance.' He thrust himself against the elf's hand and groaned anew.

Elrond chuckled and guided his needy husband off the path and into the long grass and flowers. He kissed him again and as he felt Mithrandír's knees buckle, he gently lowered him down onto the sweet earth. When Elrond looked, Mithrandír has his eyes closed and he thrust his hips in lust, mewing softly. Elrond swiftly released the ties to the trews, pulled them down and so allowing Mithrandír's swollen shaft to spring free. The dark slit was already weeping thick pearls of seed. Not wanting to tease his husband further, Elrond lowered his head, taking the ripe plum of Mithrandír's cock into his mouth. Immediately Mithrandír thrust deeply and groaned. Elrond lifted his eyes to look at his beloved. He saw his husband writhing, his hands grabbing at the long grass for support. His face was contorted in pleasure and beads of sweat shone on his face.

Elrond could smell Mithrandír's musky maleness as he slid his mouth down the swollen shaft. Mithrandír jerked, his body stiff. Elrond knew his husband's climax was building quickly. He ran his tongue once up the pulsing vein and Mithrandír thrust wildly as his crisis broke. Elrond's name was on his lips as streams of hot seed were greedily swallowed by the elf.

Elrond licked the softening shaft, cleaning it of every drop of the precious liquid. He then sat back on his heels, licking his lips and looked at his husband. Mithrandír's eyes were still closed, he panted heavily and his hands still clutched as the grass, some of which he had pulled out in his ecstasy. Elrond smiled. He adored looking at Mithrandír in the aftermath of lovemaking. His husband gave himself completely to passion and Elrond knew he was Mithrandír's passion.

'I love you, Olórin. Have I told you that today?'

Mithrandír slowly opened his eyes. 'No. Not today, my beautiful husband.'

Elrond lay down next to him. 'Then I will. I love you. I love you more today than yesterday, but less than tomorrow.'

Mithrandír laughed softly. 'Very poetic, melme.' He pulled the Elf on top of him with ease. 'Thank you for that.'

'I would say that the pleasure was mostly yours, ... but I enjoyed it just as much,' Elrond kissed the tip of Mithrandír's nose.

'We should move, else we will end up staying the night here,' Mithrandír said.

Elrond rolled off him and pulled him up. He smiled wickedly as he nodded to Mithrandír's feet. Pooled around them were his trews. Mithrandír gave him a smug grin as he pulled them up and secured them around his waist. Elrond brushed him down, smoothed his unruly hair and with their arms around each other, they set off for the city again.

 

***************

The streets were busy as usual. Night-time saw Alqualondë vibrant with life. The buildings reflected the silver glow from Ithil's light, torches and lanterns further illuminated the streets. Musicians and storytellers gathered in the squares, there was singing and dancing, but there was also deep quiet. You had only to walk a few streets until you came to the woods and quiet areas so beloved by Elves.

They walked slowly, stopping to listen to a song or story as they wanted. They bought sweet wine, which they drank sitting by a fountain and watched a lively dance. They continued their walk back to the house and as they crossed the square, a group of Elves came towards them. The group walked quietly, neither talking nor singing. They bowed to Elrond and Mithrandír as they passed. One of the group looked directly at Elrond and held his gaze for several heartbeats.

A shiver of recognition ran down the Elf Lord's spine. He could not place the face, but the eyes held a familiarity he found unsettling. The group passed out of sight.

'Are you well, melme?' Mithrandír asked, concern showing on his face.

'Yes. Perfectly well. Why do you ask?'

'Because you look as if you have just seen a ghost.'

Elrond wiped his hand across his forehead. 'No. I ... I thought I recognised one of that group. It is nothing, a trick of the light perhaps. Come, let us return home quickly, we will be missed and besides ...' He looked from hooded, passionate eyes at Mithrandír. 'You owe me one afternoon of missed love.'

Mithrandír laughed out loud. 'Then let us make haste, Master Elf, for it would seem that I will be working hard this night.'

They lay in bed, their naked bodies entwined in the warm night, their passion spent. Mithrandír's arm was flung across Elrond's chest, his head buried in the cleft of the elf's shoulder as he slept. Elrond, his eyes closed was lost in the dream world of Elves.

_He was a mere elfling … he and Elros carried by members of their household fleeing … the family guards leading them to a place of safety away from the burning city … all around fire smoke the shouts of fighters and the screams of their victims … Kinslaying slaughter running shouting fear battle … then horses waiting in a clearing … shouting all around them … horses rearing … chaos … they were pushed up and onto a horse … swords were drawn the enemy was upon them … bodies on the ground … blood soaked earth … looking at Elros his brother's face twisted in panic … clinging to each other in their fear … a tall elf grabbing the reins of their horse._

_He stared the elf in the eyes._

With a shout, Elrond sat bolt upright in bed. Mithrandír was thrown from his resting place.

'Elrond, melme? What is wrong?' Instantly alert in his concern for his husband, Mithrandír turned and grabbed his arm. Elrond was shaking, his body damp with sweat.

Elrond slowly turned his head to face Mithrandír. 'I remember where I have seen that elf before,' he said, in a voice as hard as flint.

 

***************

_The Void is dark and limitless, but not empty._

_For countless millennia it had been filled with the presence of the Dark One. He had wandered through this infinite space, ever searching, ever watchful. He would sing as he wandered. Sometimes the songs were melancholy and sad, sometimes discordant. Rarely were they joyous. The Dark One had known no joy since … since those days long ago when he had wandered Arda in freedom._

_He detected the presence long before he saw any form. So attuned was he to the shifting emptiness that any speck of light or any change in the fabric of the Void was immediately discernable._

_The form took shape and solidified._

_‘Another visit, brother?’ His voice was still pure, clear and soft._

_‘Thou art my brother and I do not wish for thee to be always alone and I have news,’ was the reply._

_‘Tell me then. What news dost thou bring? Come, if thou desirest to lessen my solitude once again, stay awhile and speak with me. What is happening in the World?’_

_‘Thy lieutenant, Sauron and all his minions and craft, are destroyed utterly.’_

_The anguished wail filled the Void **.**_

_‘GO. LEAVE ME. TORMENTOR, **’** he screamed and the Void shook and shimmered so great was his anger and when he was alone once more, long did he mutter and curse the world for failing him. When calmness returned and his thoughts were clear again, his mind turned to plans. ‘This is not over,’ whispered and echoed through the vast emptiness._

****

**_*********************_ **

**Part Two – 'The Breaking of our Two Hearts’**

 

*********************

 

 

 

_ TRANSLATIONS _

  _Ada = Dad/Daddy_

_Adar = Father_

_Herren Istari = Order of Wizards_

_Hannon le = Thank you_

_Ion = Son_

_Ion-nin = My son_

_Mae govannen = Well Met – (a usual form of greeting)_

_Meleth = Love (as an endearment)_

_Meldanya = my love_

_Melme = Beloved_

_Mir-nin = My Jewel_

_Nana = Mum/Mummy_

_Naneth = Mother_

_Peredhel (S) = Half-Elven_

_Perelda (Q) = Half-Elven_

_Perian (S) =Hobbit_

_Periain (S) = Hobbits_

_Periandi (Q) = Hobbits_

_Sell-nin = My daughter_

_Suilad = Greetings_

_Telemnar Lestánore = Silver Flame of Doriath_

_(As always, my grateful thanks to Dragon Flame and Hiswelóke Sindarin Dictionary Project; The Quenya Dictionary and The Grey Company.)_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Part One.
> 
> Part Two - 'The Breaking of our Two Hearts' takes a very different path for Mithrandír and Elrond.
> 
> Thank you for reading this far, and thank you to everyone who has left Kudos! and comments - both of which are always gratefully received.


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